


Nyima

by SlovenlyCondiments



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Action/Adventure, Air Nomad Lore (Avatar), Air Nomads (Avatar), Airbending & Airbenders, Alternate Universe - Avatar & Benders Setting, Drama, Dysfunctional Family, Escape, Family Drama, Identity Issues, LGBTQ Character, LGBTQ Themes, Multi, Original Character(s), Other, Surviving Air Nomads (Avatar)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-26
Updated: 2020-07-26
Packaged: 2021-03-16 16:53:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 43,726
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28959768
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SlovenlyCondiments/pseuds/SlovenlyCondiments
Summary: In the cool autumn of 84 AG, a child is born to an Earth Kingdom woman and a Fire Nation soldier. Her birth is not so unusual (in fact it's exceedingly common in the colonies), and much of her early childhood is relatively normal as well. However, everything changes when it's discovered that she can airbend.
Relationships: Aang/Katara (Avatar), Original Character/Original Character/Original Character, Zuko (Avatar)/Original Female Character(s)
Kudos: 7
Collections: Avatar: The Last Airbender, Oc Centric Fics





	1. Prologue: Daiyu and Hiroaki

**Author's Note:**

> Hello there!
> 
> So, I've already posted this story on fanfiction.net, but I've been in a bit of a writting slump lately and have been finding it ahrd to finish the new chapter. While I was struggling with it, I realized I've never set foot off fanfiction.net, so this is me dipping my toes into the AO3 waters! Hope you enjoy!
> 
> A lot of this story focuses on an OC and her life in the Avatar universe, particularly the first few chapters. I want to stay relatively true to the source's plotline, while also telling my own story and incorporating it into the original. So, diehard Avatar fans that want to read content pertaining only to Avatar characters, this might not be the story for you.
> 
> The first three chapters are the Prologue, they'll be marked with "Prologue". They go over the early childhood of the OC and may be a bit slow, particularly the second part. If you want to skip ahead you can, although you'll miss important backstory!
> 
> Also, be aware that this story will have some mature themes and make references to abuse, death, and mental illness. There may be sexual content as well (no lemons).
> 
> I'm writing this for funsies but would love any and all comments or criticisms! Thank you for taking the time to read my little story! :)

**Daiyu and Hiroaki**

* * *

**84 AG:** Early Autumn

A soft breeze blew through the trees, carrying a playful nip of southern chill that tickled the back of Daiyu's neck. She shivered pleasantly, and coarse but gentle fingers moved to cover her exposed skin.

"Are you cold?" A warm voice asked, as its owner rubbed his hands into the crick of her neck. "You know, a chill's not good for the baby."

Daiyu smiled. The warm voice and gentle, well-worked hands belonged to her lover, Hiroaki. She craned her head back to look at him, gazing at his stern mouth and solid gray eyes. She wiggled her eyebrows at him and giggled as those hard eyes and mouth softened into a small, loving grin.

"You worry too much, Hiroaki. A breeze like that is good for the baby, it keeps her healthy and strong."

She reached up to place a hand on his cheek, feeling the hair of his beard scratch her palm. Her other hand reached for his on her neck and brought it down to the top of her swollen belly. He turned his face to kiss her palm as he rubbed her stomach. His grin stretched into a full smile as he felt his child kick against his hand, as if to agree with its mother.

"Her, huh?" He chuckled lightly. He moved so that his arms wrapped around her midsection, pulling her back against him. "What makes you so sure it's a girl?"

Daiyu shrugged and scratched his beard. It was fashioned in the typical Fire Nation way, coming to a sharp point a few inches from his chest and with precise 90 degree angles on his cheeks and under his mouth. When they'd first met two years ago, it had been scarcely more than a small tuft of a goatee. She liked this much better than that scruffy looking thing. She wove her fingers into the thickest parts of it as she responded to him.

"Call it a mother's intuition. A woman has a knack for knowing this kind of thing, you know."

Hiroaki shook his head and chuckled again. "Well, when _she's_ born a _he_ , I'll make sure to let everyone know just how intuitive you are."

A stronger wind whistled past them then, and Daiyu felt a particularly rough kick come from the baby. She let out a quiet " _oh"_ more out of surprise than pain, and grimaced down at her stomach.

"Well, regardless of the gender, I know one thing for sure: this baby is going to be active." An idea came to her suddenly and she gasped happily and spun around to face her lover.

" _OH!_ What if she's born a bender? I've heard that active babies are more likely to be born benders. Maybe she'll be a firebender!"

Hiroaki's eyebrows scrunched together and he looked at her dubiously. "The only firebenders in my family come from my mother's side. And even then it was only one brother and a few of his children." He saw Daiyu begin to pout, and knew that in a moment she would huff at him for not agreeing with her, even if it didn't make sense. He tightened his arms around her and leaned down to kiss her forehead before she could stubbornly pull away. "She doesn't need to be anyway. I'll love a nonbender child as much as I would a firebending one."

Hearing him refer to the child as she quickly perked Daiyu back up, and she pulled his head down further to lead his lips into a kiss.

"You'd better." She mumbled against him. He responded by kissing her harder.

After a few moments, Daiyu broke the kiss by teasingly biting at his lip until he pulled away with annoyance. He rubbed his sore lip as she smirked at him. Ever the playful imp. She leaned back against him, placing her head on his chest.

"She'll need a name." She said. Hiroaki nodded thoughtfully as he discretely pulled his hand from his lip to see if she'd made it bleed.

"Suppose so."

Daiyu looked up at him expectantly, and when he did nothing more than lick his lip and raise a brow at her she pouted.

" _Well?_ Have you thought of any?" She sat up and put her fist on her hip. "This baby's only a week away."

Another nod. "I know." He sat back on his palms and stared thoughtfully at her. "A good Fire Nation name."

Daiyu frowned at that. "What's wrong with Earth Nation names? Wouldn't Bao be pretty? Or Lee if it _is_ a boy?"

" _Every_ boy is named Lee." Hiroaki complained. "And there isn't going to _be_ an Earth Nation for long anyways. Have you forgotten that you're not a part of the Earth Kingdom, Daiyu? This-" He waved out to the woods around them, gesturing towards the general direction of the village they'd walked from. "-is a Fire Nation colony. This baby will be _Fire Nation_. You should be proud to give her a Fire Nation name."

Daiyu fell silent, a heavy feeling falling onto her shoulders and into her gut. The village she'd been born in had been colonized when her own mother had been a little girl. Daiyu had grown up with Fire Nation soldiers living right next door to her, even playing with the occasional Fire Nation child when the soldiers eventually started moving their families in. Still, she'd grown up distinctly Earth Kingdom, and her parents had been sure to raise her with pride.

However, what Hiroaki said was true. Her village hadn't been Earth Kingdom in many years, and would probably never be again. They belonged to the Fire Nation now, and her own child was not exclusively Earth Kingdom. She belonged to the Fire Nation too. And what would happen to that child when she entered a Fire Nation school with an Earth Kingdom name? She'd be singled out. Excluded. Ridiculed for not being full Fire Nation, tortured for being a filthy colonized Earth Kingdom whelp.

Daiyu forced a small smile, hoping it looked convincing enough to not concern Hiroaki.

"You're right." She said. "I don't know any Fire Nation names though."

Oblivious to her inner conflict, Hiroaki simply smiled. "My grandmother had a good name, Akari. It means a bright light."

"Akari? Akari..." Daiyu mulled it over, sampling the name a few times. She liked it well enough, and for a Fire Nation name its meaning wasn't too...aggressive. Still, that heaviness in her gut rolled unhappily. A Fire Nation name for her half Earth Kingdom child. Daiyu clenched her teeth and nodded approval. "It's a good name. A strong _Fire Nation_ name."

Hiroaki leaned forward and kissed her on the cheek, not noticing the tension in her jaw.

"Then it's decided. If it's truly a girl like you think, we'll name her Akari. Our bright light."

He offered her a warm smile, then unwrapped himself from her and stood. Picking his helmet and cuirass off the ground, he slipped them back on, then helped her to her feet.

"I have to return to my patrol now. I'll walk you back home."

Daiyu stood quietly, all of her earlier playfulness gone. Still, she affectionately latched onto Hiroaki's arm to steady herself as they began to walk back to the colony. All the while, her head swirled with thoughts of the future of her child, stuck between two different worlds, one of which meant to consume the other. And Hiroaki, ever the Fire Nation gentleman, continued to walk by her side without knowing a thing.

* * *

Exactly a week later, Daiyu's intuition was proven true. In the small home she shared with Hiroaki, assisted by her mother and a local midwife, Daiyu delivered a tiny baby girl. As she belted out her first cries, Daiyu beamed over at Hiroaki and mouthed an I told you so. Squeezing her hand, he watched the midwife carefully place the crying baby in a wash basin. As cool water washed over her for the first time in her life, she cried louder, so loud that the midwife even winced.

"Spirits, this is the loudest child I've ever bathed!" She said good-naturedly, and smiled at the new parents. "She's got healthy lungs, that's for sure."

At the right of her bed, Daiyu's mother groaned. "You don't say."

Daiyu and Hiroaki didn't seem to mind the noise, they were both too overwhelmed with the arrival of their first child. The rest of the world seemed to melt away the moment that she was placed in Daiyu's arms.

Hiroaki sat on the edge of the bed and wrapped his arms around his wife, resting his cheek against hers as he stared down proudly at his daughter.

"Hello, Akari."

Akari looked up at her father, revealing big gray eyes that matched his. They were like early morning clouds, the sort that only drizzled the slightest bit of rain but left behind the sweetest of smells. They were the eyes that Daiyu had fallen in love with when she was just 16, and she could feel her heart swelling with brand new love as she looked at them.

They stayed there for a while, taking turns marveling at how perfect she was. Daiyu could hardly stop gushing over how much she looked like her father with her beautiful gray eyes and adorable button nose.

Meanwhile, the midwife bustled about the room cleaning up after the birth, paying them no mind. She'd been delivering babies for nearly four decades and was pleasant about her work but not especially inspired by it anymore. The puppy dog love of a new family was something she saw everyday, and she easily ignored it as she collected her things to leave. However, she paused for a moment when she heard the baby's name.

"Akari?" She cocked her head to the side, curiously. "What an unusual name. It sounds very...Fire Nation."

Daiyu's mother looked curiously at her son in law, who was not currently wearing his uniform. The labor had begun the night before, just as he and Daiyu were preparing to sleep, and he had not changed from his simple tunic and shorts since then. Hiroaki frowned, and looked sharply at the midwife.

"It is Fire Nation." He said sternly, and in his arms Daiyu shifted uncomfortably.

The midwife's face showed a subtle hint of sadness as she recognized the fierce pride in his tone, and she glanced furtively at Daiyu. Smiling tersely, she then bowed in apology.

"Of course, and what a good name it is. I meant only that many colony families still choose Earth Kingdom names." She lifted her head to look at Hiroaki. "Even those with Fire Nation fathers. There's more than one nation in that child."

She bowed deeply at Hiroaki and Daiyu, gave a knowing look to Daiyu's mother, then left. Daiyu turned nervously to Hiroaki. His eyes were narrow, and those early morning clouds had darkened into threatening storms. He was a fiercely proud man and loyal to his country, strongly believing in the Unified Nation that Fire Lord Sozin had imagined. He didn't take kindly to those who stood against the Fire Nation or its plans.

"She's right, Hiro." Daiyu was startled to hear her mother suddenly speak up, but not surprised. She was as proud as Hiroaki, and not afraid to show it. "We may be a Fire Colony but there is still an Earth Kingdom. That child is half Earth Kingdom as well as Fire Nation."

Feeling his ire turn to her, she held a placating hand up. "Her name is beautiful, she'll wear it with pride. But don't forget the other half of her heritage."

Her hand dropped to rest gently on the crown of Akari's head, which sprouted tufts of silky brown hair. She rubbed the child's forehead and bent to kiss Daiyu's cheek. While there, she whispered something quietly to her daughter. Then she rose, bowed respectfully at Hiroaki, and followed the midwife out of the home.

He watched her leave, considering what she'd said. He began to grind his jaw while he thought, and Daiyu quickly grabbed his chin to stop him. He pulled away and she sighed.

"Don't be angry with them, Hiro. They don't mean to insult you. They just want what's best for Akari." Her voice was gentle and soothing, and as she spoke Akari gurgled happily.

"And I don't?" He grunted. His arms were still around Daiyu, resting beneath hers as if to hold the baby as well. He released one to reach up and play with a strand of Akari's hair. It was the same color and texture as her mother's. "I don't want to erase her heritage, Daiyu. I know it's important to you. And to your family."

He cupped her cheek and turned her to him.

"But she's a half Fire Nation girl growing up in a Fire Nation colony. Her duty and her allegiance belongs first to the Fire Nation and second to her earth kingdom ancestors. I know you know that."

"I'm not a cruel man, Daiyu. I love all of you and I love all of her. But we have our responsibilities and loyalties to _our_ nation. So will Akari."

He felt Daiyu's chest rise as she sucked in her breath and nodded. Satisfied that she'd agreed, Hiroaki pressed his forehead to hers. Daiyu held Akari close to her, the same fears from the week before sitting heavy in her heart. As they sat there, tentatively embraced, she quietly prayed to the spirits for guidance.

_Please_ _,_ she thought, _let my daughter remember her roots. Show me how to raise her in this new world._

If Daiyu had known just how in tune Akari would become with her heritage, _all_ of her heritage, she might've offered a different prayer that morning.


	2. Prologue: Akari

**Akari**

* * *

**84 AG-88 AG**

Daiyu was the last of five children. Her older siblings had long since been married and given their parents grandchildren before Hiroaki even began courting her. In fact, her parents had 13 grandchildren altogether, not including Akari, and one of her sisters was pregnant again. So, while her family was very happy for Daiyu and glad to hear about Akari's birth, it wasn't momentous enough to draw them all together.

Hiroaki's family had similar reactions. They sent gifts for the new family and wished them luck, of course, but they didn't feel the need to travel to see her. Neither Daiyu or Hiroaki took particular offense to this; they were glad to receive the gifts and messenger hawks in lieu of their extended family's presence.

The sole exception was Daiyu's grandmother. It was no secret that Daiyu was her favorite grandchild, and when news traveled that Daiyu had given birth to her first child, she was quick to send a hawk announcing her pending arrival. _To help with the darling and pass on some last minute wisdom before I croak,_ she'd written. She sent a second to Daiyu's mother informing her that she'd be staying with her, much to her annoyance.

Akari was about a week and a half old when her great-grandmother arrived, and about three weeks old when she decided she was going to stay permanently. She'd taken one look at Daiyu and Hiroaki's sleep-deprived faces (for Akari was a very loud cryer and an extremely light sleeper) and known they needed all the help they could get. Moreover, as a recently widowed woman in her mid-80s, it didn't make much sense to travel another week and a half only to return to an empty house. She'd rather spend her last days spoiling Akari rotten.

So, she moved in with her daughter-in-law. Daiyu was delighted to have her grandmother close by, as she was much more of a hands-on helper with Akari than her own mother.

Over the course of a month, her grandmother showed Daiyu all the tricks of the parenting trade, including how to soothe Akari during her midnight howls. This involved placing Akari face down onto her lap and gently swaying side to side as she rubbed little circles onto her back with her fingers. It worked wonders.

During this learning period, Daiyu's grandmother began to take notice of Akari's _uniqueness_. It started when she was three months old and a bit of Dandy-Lion pollen landed on her nose. Instantly, it tickled her nostrils and she sniffled before letting out a giant sneeze. It was so strong that it blew the pollen a good meter away onto her great-grandmother's lap. She looked down at the snotty mess in surprise as Daiyu quickly began to clean it off.

"She always sneezes like that, I'm so sorry, Meemaw!" Daiyu tossed the snotty cloth aside. "It's awful to deal with. Once, she sneezed so hard she sent her food flying clear across the room!"

Daiyu shook her head and laughed good-naturedly. "At least she's got some healthy lungs!"

An odd look had passed her Meemaw's face, almost a glint of suspicion, before it quickly vanished into a small smile.

There were other moments that caught her attention as well. The child's loud cries were dismissed by Hiroaki and Daiyu. She was a relatively cheery baby who laughed more than she cried, so they weren't too concerned. It interested Meemaw, though, especially after seeing the way Akari sneezed.

"Has she always been this loud?" She'd asked one day when Akari became frightened by distant thunder and began to howl.

They all stood in the kitchen of Daiyu and Hiroaki's home, with a fire burning from the large stone stove at the back wall. The smell of cabbage and rabbit stew wafted throughout the house, mixing with the smell of rain that was soon to come.

Daiyu had simply put the crying baby on her hip, humming a quiet lullaby to distract her as the rain came on.

"Since she was born." Akari slowly calmed into a sniffle, listening to her mother as she sang. Daiyu had a very pleasant voice. Her lullabies could calm the fussiest of infants. "You should've heard her—the midwife said she was the loudest baby she'd ever delivered."

Across the room, Hiroaki sat shining his armor. He grunted at the two women, gruffly joining their conversation.

"Healthy lungs. A good thing."

Akari yawned and put her head on her mother's shoulder. Meemaw watched Daiyu lovingly rub the back of her head.

"Yes, of course, a very good thing." She said thoughtfully.

Her eyes stayed on Akari, looking over her features.

She was a good blend of her mother and father, not taking after one parent over the other. From her mother she'd mainly inherited her silky brown hair and a few dark freckles that sat at the top of her cheeks (though not nearly as many as Daiyu, who looked as if someone had sprinkled a handful of dirt over her face). From her father she'd gotten a rather oval shaped head, a dark, undefined upper lip, and a small Button-shaped nose. She also had storm gray eyes that matched not only his but Meemaw's as well. She looked not quite Fire Nation and not quite Earth Kingdom.

Meemaw had seemed to be lost in a trance as she observed her great-granddaughter, regaining the suspicious gleam in her gaze that she'd had a few months ago. Then, something seemed to click in her mind, and her eyes widened for just a second before she covered it with another smile.

She had then turned that smile to Hiroaki.

"Healthy lungs indeed." She had said. She'd nodded at the cooking fire that stood next to Hiroaki and motioned for Daiyu to step away from it.

"If you'd like to keep them healthy, you'd better keep her away from this fire then." She looked pointedly at her granddaughter. "Ash and soot aren't good for a growing baby."

Outside, the rain began to slowly pitter down onto the roof. Daiyu, following what to her had merely been baby advice from her grandmother, stepped out of the room to avoid the smoke. Hiroaki shrugged and continued shining his armor. He stopped occasionally to stir the pot for Daiyu as she comforted Akari while the rain grew stronger and the thunder got louder. An odd glaze came over Meemaw's eyes as she'd sunk into a nearby chair, looking out at Daiyu and Akari. She seemed sad and faraway, but Hiroaki paid no mind. Old women tended to have that look whenever they had a moment to sit down.

As months wore on and Akari grew older, Meemaw would notice more noteworthy behaviors of hers, even before Daiyu or Hiroaki.

_Does she always fuss when you put a blanket over her at night?_

_How are her hands growing? Are the fingers long? Is she growing a flat palm?_

_Have you noticed how much happier she is when you open the windows to let the breeze in? She always smiles when you do._

Daiyu didn't give her grandmother's odd queries much thought; she was simply making sure her great-granddaughter was raised right. Hiroaki cared even less. He found Meemaw to be quite annoying. She _insisted_ on coming to his home nearly everyday to help Daiyu with Akari. He didn't enjoy the mistrustful glances he'd catch from her either, especially when he was wearing his uniform. However, he dismissed it as the remains of her youth as an Earth Kingdom refugee and tolerated her for Daiyu's sake.

Meemaw was heavily involved in the first year and a half of Akari's life, during which she pestered her parents to the point that even Daiyu became tired of her. Then, shortly before Akari's second birthday, she fell ill. She became bedbound and was unable to visit Daiyu and Akari as often. Daiyu made sure to stop by her mother's home to see her whenever she could, but she eventually had to stop visiting. As Hiroaki had reminded her one day, she was no longer a little girl going to be pampered by her grandmother: she was a wife and mother now. She had duties to her family. By Akari's second birthday, visits to see Meemaw became a once-a-year occasion.

Meanwhile, Akari began to grow into a cheery, but very often stubborn and willful, toddler. Hiroaki would playfully bemoan the fact that she was growing into a little imp just like her mother, and Daiyu would respond by jabbing him in the ribs with a spoon. As soon as Akari was able to walk, Hiroaki took to bringing her with him on his morning patrols. When she'd grow tired, he'd lift her into his arms and tell her all about the glory of the Fire Nation, and how proud he was to serve it. He'd tell her about the Fire Festivals and promised to bring her to one once she was old enough.

In the Spring, when the flowers were in full bloom, the Family would picnic on a grassy hill just outside of town. Daiyu would pack the sweetest fruits and even a few custard tarts for them, and at the end of their lunch Hiroaki would pick the prettiest flower and tuck it behind Akari's ear. Ever the daddy's girl, she would wear it every day until it became so dry and brittle that it practically turned into dust.

And, of course, every year they would go visit Meemaw, usually in winter after the first snow. Her illness was steadily growing worse, and everyone knew that she was reaching the end of her life. Hiroaki had even fetched the best doctor in the nearby city of Yu Dao, and he'd said there was nothing to be done. It was simply her time.

Akari adored Meemaw, and would spend their visits wrapped up in her arms. She'd give her the dried remains of her Spring Picnic flower and tell her, in excruciating detail, all that she'd learned that year.

On one such visit, Akari suddenly asked Meemaw if she'd known any airbenders growing up.

Meemaw cocked her head at her great-granddaughter. "Airbenders?"

Akari nodded, her gray eyes gleaming.

"Uh-huh! Daddy was telling me about them last week. He said they all went _estinct_ a long time ago. And you're really really _old_ so you were alive when they were alive and you knew them, right?"

"Akari." Hiroaki scolded and the little girl flinched. "Don't speak to your Meemaw like that."

Akari muttered an apology to Meemaw, but she just smiled warmly and pulled the little girl closer to her.

"That's alright, sweetling." She crooned, patting the top of Akari's head. "I _am_ quite old. Old enough to remember the airbenders even."

Meemaw took a deep breath and looked up at the ceiling for a moment, and Akari knew that she was remembering something from long ago. Snuggling into her side, she looked up expectantly, waiting for her to start the story.

"It's true that the airbenders died a long time ago. Almost 100 years ago, in fact." She started, her voice grave. "The Fire Nation..."

She interrupted herself to glance at Hiroaki. She thought better of what she was about to say, cleared her throat, and mentally shuffled her words around.

"The Air Nomads were at _war_ with the Fire Nation and they knew that the next Avatar was going to be born an airbender, which would've posed a very serious threat to the Fire Nation."

Hiroaki gave Meemaw an approving look, which she ignored along with the nasty taste of a Fire Nation lie.

"So they did what they had to do, and in the end, the Air Nation fell and all of the Air Nomads perished. Except for a small few that managed to escape."

Akari's eyes widened in awe. A million questions raced through her tiny head, and she had to cover her mouth to keep from asking them all and interrupting Meemaw's story.

"They fled to the Earth Kingdom, where they hid from the Fire Nation for many years. They were a very small group, no more than three monks and a single nun. However, the nun carried a secret with her: a baby named Dawa that had been born the year of the genocide.

"Their group moved around constantly, covering their tattoos with long sleeves and hoods so they wouldn't be recognized. The Fire Nation knew they'd survived and were trying desperately to find them. Staying in one place too long meant their death.

"Eventually, they came to stop at a little village near Omashu. This village was so small that it had hardly more than thirty people in it, and it didn't even have a name. It was also the village I was born in."

Akari couldn't hold her breath anymore and exploded into a cascade of questions.

"Did you meet the airbenders? Could they really fly? Did they come live with you? How old were you? Were you friends with Dawa? Are they still there?" With every question, she leaned in closer and her eyes grew bigger until she looked half-crazed with curiosity. Meemaw put a hand on her forehead and gently pushed her down.

"Listen and you'll know." Akari huffed with all the impatience of a five year old and begrudgingly settled back into her spot on the bed. When Meemaw was satisfied that there'd be no more interruptions, she continued.

"I was a few years older than you are now when I first met Dawa. She was younger than me, much too young to have earned her tattoos, so I didn't know she was an airbender. Not at first.

"We became very good friends. She was very playful and even a bit mischievous. Her time spent on the run had taught her to be quick and to do whatever it took to survive. Together we got into all sorts of trouble."

A warm smile spread across Meemaw's thinning lips as she fondly remembered her old friend. She chuckled as a particular memory came to her.

"We used to go steal sweets from the kitchen when my mother wasn't looking. That's how I found out she was an airbender. She'd snuck behind the table while I distracted my mother and used her bending to pull two egg custard tarts into her hand. I could hardly believe it when I first saw it. I asked her to teach me and she just laughed. 'You have to be born an airbender to do that, silly'. She'd told me.

"When no one was looking, we would run into the forest together and she'd show me whatever new airbending move she'd just learned from her mother. I'd try and copy her and always end up in the mud."

Akari giggled at that. Then a thought came to her.

" _Did_ you ever airbend, Meemaw?"

Now it was Meemaw's turn to laugh, although hers was dry and without much humor; it sounded less like a genuine laugh and more like a scoff that at the last minute decided to become a chuckle. Daiyu cut in, mistaking it to be the beginning of a cough.

"No, Akari." She said warmly, answering for her grandmother. "Remember, you have to be _born_ an airbender to airbend."

Akari looked down, somewhat disappointed.

"Oh, yeah." She pouted. "That's sad."

Daiyu shrugged. "That's life. It's better that Meemaw wasn't an airbender anyways." She sighed sadly, knowing this story well. "Poor Dawa."

Her daughter's eyes bugged out of her head in shock. "Poor Dawa? What happened to her? Is she okay?"

Meemaw closed her eyes tightly and breathed in deeply. Grief welled up behind her chest and she had to turn her head away for a moment. She sniffled and wiped at the cold tears that were threatening to spill down her cheeks. Daiyu reached over to put a comforting hand on her knee. She'd loved to tell the story of Dawa, and had told it to all of her children and grandchildren multiple times. However, at its core it was a sad story, and she cried every time she told it.

Smiling at Daiyu Meemaw placed her hand over hers and rubbed the top of it with her thumb.

"She was a fugitive, Akari. All airbenders were." She explained. "But I was so young that I couldn't understand why. All I knew was that she was my friend and I loved her very much."

Another deep breath. She looked down at her hand on top of Daiyu's.

"Growing up, there weren't many playmates my age, so having someone like Dawa as a friend was exciting. I started pretending to airbend around the house, and when my mother asked where I'd learned to 'dance' like that, I told her. I even told her where her group was hiding. I didn't know any better. I was just so happy to have a friend like her.

"One day, Fire Nation soldiers came to our village. They said they'd heard rumors that airbenders had been spotted nearby. They wouldn't leave until they'd found them and anyone who was hiding them would be punished. Dawa and I were in the woods playing when my mother confessed. She even led them to the grove I'd told her about. When Dawa and I returned, there was nothing left of her group. Just broken artifacts and torn clothing. I'll never forget the sorrow on her face as she ran to try and find them."

Meemaw lifted her head to look at Akari, whose wide eyes were now filled to the brim with horror. An appropriate reaction.

"I never saw her again. I tried to ask my mother what had happened to her, but she only told me not to speak of her again. There were no more airbenders seen after that. She was the last one." Meemaw finished her story quietly. Next to her, Akari shifted uncomfortably. There was a heavy silence that filled the room for a good thirty seconds and at first no one dared break it. Finally, Akari grumbled and let her little voice be heard.

"I didn't like that story." She muttered. "Why didn't your mommy just let them stay there?"

Hiroaki was the next one to speak. He'd spent so long sitting quietly in the corner of the room that everyone else had almost forgotten he was even there.

"It wasn't her choice, Akari. They were fugitives under Fire Nation law. It was her duty to report them." He looked pointedly at Meemaw, who shuddered. "She did the right thing."

Meemaw's jaw tightened and she gave Hiroaki a very forced, thin smile. "Yes, I suppose it _was_ her duty."

Akari whimpered loudly, not wanting to be ignored. "I didn't _like_ that story." She repeated. "Can you tell me a _good_ story about airbenders?"

"There _are_ no good stories, child." Meemaw suddenly chided, much to Akari's surprise. "The airbenders are all dead. The good died with them."

_"Meemaw!_ _"_ Daiyu snapped.

Akari's bottom lip quivered, not used to being talked to in such a way by Meemaw. She was never so short with her. Seeing the pitiful look on the young girl's face, Meemaw clicked her tongue apologetically.

"Oh, sweet girl, I'm sorry. I don't mean to hurt you." She wrapped her arm tighter around her and pulled her close. Akari nestled her face deep into the softness of her chest."I'm only old and in pain, it makes everything hurt worse to remember such nastiness."

From her bosom came a tiny sniffle, and Meemaw could feel a few tears wet her nightgown. She made a sympathetic noise and rocked her. Then she gently took the girl's chin and lifted her head up.

"If you stop crying, I'll tell you a funny little story about your momma. Would that be alright?"

Akari rubbed her face with her arm and nodded. Meemaw smiled and began to tell her all about the wild child Daiyu, whose favorite thing to do was to ride wild Pickens through the colony. After a few more stories their visit came to an end as Meemaw became tired and her bones began to ache. By that time, Akari was beginning to nod off into sleep, and Daiyu promptly scooped her into her arms. Hiroaki and Daiyu respectfully said their goodbyes and made their way home. The story of Dawa was soon forgotten.


	3. Prologue: Genji

**Genji**

* * *

**90 AG:** Mid-Autumn

At six years old, Akari learned from one of the other colony children that all benders first use their abilities at her age. To emphasize this, the child punched the air in front of Akari, producing a small puff of flame. Amazed, Akari watched as he continued to punch and kick wildly at the air, throwing tiny balls of fire around them.

"How do you do that?" She asked excitedly, hoping she'd be able to learn. He shrugged.

"I dunno, I just kinda move around." He flicked his hand out, palm up and fingers slightly curled, and a flame burst to life. "My dad said it's all in how you move."

Curious, Akari copied his motion and flung her hand out to see if she could create fire too. Her hand remained empty and she frowned. She tried again a few times, before sulking and flopping her hand to her side.

"Is your dad a firebender?"

Tossing the flame between his hands like a ball, the boy shook his head.

"No," he said, "There hasn't been a firebender in my family for a loooong time. I'm the first since my great-grandpa."

He tossed the fireball into his right hand, then thrust his palm out, shooting the fire in front of him. Akari watched with earnestness. It was clear that he really didn't have much skill, as his flame was small and not all that hot. But he was the first bender she'd ever met, so she didn't know what good firebending looked like anyways. Akari's eyes remained fixated on the little flame that danced over his fingers.

"My great uncle was a fire bender." She said thoughtfully. "So were some of his sons. Do you think I could be a bender too?"

Again, the boy answered her with a shrug of his shoulders. He started to dance around her, kicking and punching short jets of flame. Clearly, he was more interested in showing off than answering any of her questions. Annoyed by this, Akari huffed and crossed her arms.

She watched him prance right into the clothesline that hung between his hut and a nearby fence, setting the clothes that hung there on fire. He looked up in terror as his mother caught sight of his doing from inside and shrieked. He looked to Akari for help as his mother, red-faced and yelling, stomped out to the patio. Akari only shrugged, stuck her tongue out at him, and turned to run home.

Once there, she immediately raced to the kitchen, where her mother was washing freshly picked fire peppers.

"Could I be a firebender?" She exploded.

Daiyu turned to her and raised an eyebrow as if to ask where such a question had come from. Before she could verbalize this, though, Akari rushed to explain.

"'Cus I met this boy today who just found out _he_ could firebend, and he told me everyone who can starts doing it when they turn six, and _I'm_ six, so that means if I _am_ a firebender I should start firebending soon and I just _need_ to know if I am a firebender."

Daiyu listened patiently, then broke out into a huge smile, remembering when she'd had a similar discussion with her husband. She set aside the fire peppers, wiped her hands off on the front of her dress, and kneeled down to Akari's level.

"You know, when I was pregnant with you, I thought for _sure_ that you were going to be born a firebender."

Akari's eyes grew wide. _"_ _Really?"_

Daiyu nodded and took her daughter's hands in her own. "Oh, yes. You used to kick inside of me so much! An active baby is usually born a bender, so I knew you just _had_ to be one."

Akari gasped and began to jump up and down, excited.

"So I really am a firebender! I have to be! I have to be!" She cried out happily. Daiyu giggled, happy to see her daughter so excited.

Kissing the tops of her little hands, Daiyu let them go and stood up. She put her hands on her hips and smiled confidently at Akari.

"Well, there's only way to know for sure." She stated. "We'll have to see you firebend."

Akari frowned at that.

"But, I tried copying what that boy was doing and nothing happened." She protested. Her mother simply waved a dismissive hand.

"Because you weren't doing it right." Daiyu was quick to explain. "Any bending requires form and discipline. You can't learn that from watching some colony boy heat up a few embers."

"Tell you what." She continued, starting to walk towards the door. Confused, but curious, Akari quickly followed her lead. "Your father learned some forms from his Uncle, he'll be able to teach you. Let's go find him."

Thrilled at the thought of learning how to firebend, Akari ran ahead of her mother. Daiyu watched in amazement as Akari effortlessly bolted past her, running faster than any six year old had ever ran before. Not one to be undone, Daiyu raced after her, laughing.

They found Hiroaki sitting in the fields where the farmers let the Giant Pangolows graze, not far from their home. He was relaxing on a stump, watching the herd when Akari leapt onto his back. He fell forward, narrowly missing an appropriately Giant-sized Pangolow Pie, and Akari tumbled down with him. She shrieked playfully and threw her arms around her father's neck.

"I've caught you! Now you have to teach me how to firebend!"

Hiroaki groaned and pushed himself up off the ground. He unwrapped Akari's arms from his throat and slid her off his back onto her feet.

"Firebending? Where is this coming from?" He asked, somewhat confused.

Daiyu, who despite her best efforts had been left behind in her daughter's dust, caught up just then. She stuck her tongue out at Akari, pretending to be upset over having lost their race, before going to kiss her husband on the cheek.

"Akari met a firebender today and now she wants to learn how to do it." Daiyu explained. "And you're going to teach her!"

Hiroaki almost protested, about to explain that he was most definitely not a firebender and it was very unlikely that Akari was. They weren't a firebending family (Great Uncles and distant cousins aside). Before he could even part his lips to say this aloud, however, Daiyu's eyes flashed with a wicked gleam and he thought better of it. He returned Daiyu's chaste kiss and then smiled down at Akari.

"Of course. Then we'd better get started." He said, motioning for Akari to follow him a little further into the field.

_"Woohoo!_ _"_ Ecstatic, Akari jumped up and threw her arms in the air above her. "I'm going to be a _firebender!"_

Daiyu happily settled down on the stump to watch them. Hiroaki tapped the scaled hindquarters of the Pangolows to clear a space for him and Akari. The large two-legged animals bellowed as they moved out of the way, their forelimbs politely crossed at the claws as they walked. Akari affectionately rubbed behind a calf's ear as it passed by, giggling when it flicked its long, thin tongue at her. Once they had a small area to themselves, Hiroaki stood with his feet together and his chest held high. Akari emulated him as best she could, standing straight as a tree.

"I don't know much about firebending, since I'm not a firebender." He admitted. "But my Uncle was. Growing up, he taught me some of the basic forms that all young firebenders would have to know if they wanted to become great firebenders and bring honor to their nation."

Hiroaki dropped into a wide-legged stance, his toes pointing out. He nodded at Akari, meaning for her to do the same. She struggled to twist her ankles out as well as her father had, and in the end ended up with more of a 3/4 turn.

"Drop your hips more." Hiroaki instructed, and she did as she was told, slightly wobbling. Daiyu giggled as she watched and Hiroaki shook his head.

"Form is essential for bending." He chided. "If your stance is even the least bit off-center, or your movements the slightest bit unconfident, you'll end up with smoke, not fire." He came out of his pose to adjust hers before returning to his position. "Better."

"Now, take a deep breath..." he and Akari closed their eyes and breathed deeply, filling their lungs with the cool Autumn air. They slowly let it out together, and Akari could feel a calmness come over her. "Watch me then move like I do. Remember to keep your stance wide and your movements sharp. Firebending is all about attacking, pushing your energy out at your opponent."

Hiroaki pivoted his torso to face the left, keeping his lower half immobile. He thrust one fist out so that his arm was parallel with his shoulder, the other arm sharply drawing in towards his body. Then, he swiftly punched out with that arm and brought the first back to his side. He nodded at Akari to do the same.

Nervous, Akari copied his movements, feeling a little silly while she did so. No fire came from her fists, and she frowned. Hiroaki saw her disappointment and moved to the next stance. He swiveled to face forward, pulling his elbows in and twisting his forearms so the palms of his fists faced up.

"Try again, but face me. Focus your energy into your fists and punch out _hard_ _."_ He instructed, again striking out in front of him. "Firebending is _power_ _._ Attack with _confidence_ _,_ there's no room to be timid."

Akari inhaled deeply through her nose, feeling the energy swell in her chest. She clenched her eyes shut to focus, trying to imagine the heat in her hands. She pictured herself punching little bursts of flame just like she'd seen the boy from that morning do. But something about it just didn't seem right. The energy she felt inside of her didn't feel hot, it felt cool and light and free. It made her think of the gentle breeze she loved to feel tickle her cheeks in the morning. Curious, Akari did her best to channel this energy into her arms.

Overtaken by this new yet somehow familiar force, Akari forgot what her father had told her and abandoned her stiff-legged stance. Instead, she assumed a more relaxed form and leaned back against one knee. Both Daiyu and Hiroaki looked at her in confusion, not sure what she was doing. Akari opened her palms and swirled her wrists around in a circular motion, feeling the energy manifest in her hands. She then shifted her weight onto her front foot, thrust her palms out ahead of her, and created a powerful gust that hit Hiroaki square in the chest. With an unsuspecting cry, Hiroaki was blown off balance and fell back into the grass.

Akari drew back, shocked to see her father fall. Looking down at her hands, the realization of what she'd done slowly dawned on her. She shrieked and began jumping around, bouncing from one foot to the other.

"I'm not a firebender! I'm an _airbender_ _!"_ She cried out in glee, dancing around in the field. Akari spun quickly to her mother, expecting her to join in her celebration.

"Mommy, I'm an air-!" Her smile quickly fell when she noticed her parents' reactions.

Daiyu's eyes were as wide as saucers, and she clapped her hands over her mouth, stifling a disbelieving gasp. Stunned by what had just happened, Hiroaki remained on the ground for a moment, blinking up at the sky. It wasn't until he heard Akari joyfully announce that she was an airbender that it truly hit him.

She had _airbended_ _._ Nearly a century after the last airbenders had died off, she had somehow been born an airbender. Hiroaki felt heat rise to his face as anger began to burn inside of him. How could _he_ have made an _airbender?_

Daiyu snapped out of her shocked daze first, suddenly remembering that the field was well within sight of the village. Whipping around to check over her shoulder, she was relieved to see that no one was nearby. She leapt at Akari, snatching her hands and squeezing them tightly, as if she could suppress her abilities that way.

"Shhh, Akari, don't be too loud-" She again looked nervously back, afraid there'd be Fire Nation soldiers marching towards them. "Someone could hear you!"

Fueled by his anger and the suspicion that flared in his chest, Hiroaki rushed to his feet. Red in the cheeks and eyes, he stormed at them. Daiyu and Akari snapped their heads toward him, Daiyu with a look of bewilderment and Akari with absolute fear. She didn't understand why her parents seemed upset at her, and her eyes were welling up with confused tears. Hiroaki glared at Daiyu.

"An _airbender?_ _"_ He growled, shocking Daiyu, who was as surprised as he was to have seen what they'd seen. "There's no way any child of _mine_ could be born an _airbender."_

Realizing what he was implying, Daiyu drew back as if struck. Genuine hurt filled her eyes, and she looked up at him almost like a beaten dog, all pain and pleading.

"What are you saying, Hiro?" She whimpered. "I'm just as confused as you are, I have no idea how she could've airbended."

She looked desperately down at Akari's hands and back up to her husband. "Maybe it's a fluke, maybe she didn't really airbend! Maybe it was just a coincidence, it _is_ Autumn, there are strong winds nowadays."

Hiroaki believed that about as much as she did. He narrowed his eyes at her. The storm within swirled, furious and unforgiving.

"Don't try lying, Daiyu, I know what I felt. I know what I _saw_." He pointed violently at Akari, who flinched and began to cry. "She _airbended._ Explain to me how you and _I_ could've made an _airbender."_

Daiyu shook her head quickly, overwhelmed by his questions and the situation overall. "I don't know, I don't know! But she is _yours_ _,_ Hiro!"

_**"Bullshit!**_ _ **"**_ Hiroaki's anger got the best of him and he shouted at his wife. He was usually a very level-headed man, but the thought of having been betrayed by Daiyu and unknowingly raising a bastard airbender child was too much for even him. Akari, who had never heard her father shout, cried harder and began to back away in fear.

Hiroaki waved his arms out wildly to emphasize just how upset he was as he continued to yell. "You had so many men eating out the palm of your hands when we met, what's not to say you kept entertaining them when I came along?

"You loved being the center of attention, you wanted the most interesting man, you told me so yourself. What's more interesting than a fugitive, huh? Have your pretty-eyed Fire Nation husband give you a good home while you have your fun with your airbender outlaw?"

Now it was Daiyu's turn to become angry, and she got into Hiroaki's face, all tenderness gone.

"How _dare_ you! I chose you out of all those men because I _loved_ you and because I thought you loved me too!" She shoved her finger into his face and stepped to him, forcing him to back up. No matter how angry he was, he wouldn't ever hurt her and she knew that. "When would I have _ever_ slept with an airbender, Hiroaki? Where the _hell_ would I have even found him? You know as well as I do that they all died a hundred years ago! You think I went back in time to _fuck_ a _monk?!"_

"I don't know!" He roared, knowing somewhere in his brain that he sounded ridiculous, but being too embroiled in his own anger to care. "But do the fucking math, Fire Nation and Earth Nation does not make Air Nation!"

"Oh, so _now_ I get to be Earth Nation, not Fire Nation property?" Daiyu scoffed, letting out her unease over her and Akari's forced identities for the first time. "I'm glad it took _our_ daughter _airbending_ for you to admit who I am."

Hiroaki boiled with anger. He and Daiyu had never argued before. In fact, they'd never really addressed any issues they'd had with one another once in their entire relationship. Any problem they'd encountered had been swept aside in favor of blissful ignorance. And now, with this odd shock of Akari's bending ability, all of their insecurities were bubbling to the surface. Hiroaki shook his head gruffly and turned away from his wife.

"Akari-!" He started to call her over, meaning to question her on the matter (of her abilities not her parent's marriage), but she wasn't in the field. In fact, Hiroaki and Daiyu were the only ones standing in the field. The Pangolows, emotionally sensitive creatures, had shied away into the forest the moment the yelling had begun.

He spun around to look for her. Daiyu noticed Akari's absence shortly after Hiroaki, and felt her heart sink into her stomach. She looked about wildly to find her, then caught sight of a small figure running towards the village. It was Akari, and Daiyu quickly saw that she was running in the direction of Meemaw.

Daiyu realized that their fighting had scared and confused Akari, and pangs of regret hit her like blows to her gut. She glanced at Hiroaki, her face riddled with guilt. He, however, remained angry, not knowing he'd likely just traumatized their little girl. Daiyu, wanting only to protect her family, buried her pride for a moment and touched his arm to get his attention.

"Please, let me talk to her, she's more confused than we are. Let's talk about this later, _please_."

Hiroaki rebuffed her touch at first, and jerked his head towards the village. He saw where Akari was running, weaving between various villagers as they went about their day, unaware of the family drama occuring in the fields. Daiyu reached out again and looked up at him, pleading.

" _Please_. I know you're angry and confused. I am too. Let me talk to her and then we can talk."

He inhaled sharply, held the breath for a moment, then exhaled through his teeth in low hiss.

"Fine." He grunted. "I'll come find you in thirty minutes. Then we'll talk."

Daiyu sprinted after Akari, fighting back tears as Hiroaki's harsh accusations rang in her ears. Despite the pain that his words had caused, she knew she couldn't focus on that at the moment. He was just confused, they all were. But she had to remind herself that no one was more confused and hurt than Akari, who had only wanted to make her parents proud by firebending. Akari, who was too young to understand why her parents had fought and why her airbending was not something to celebrate in a Fire Nation colony.

Diayu's surroundings blurred as she raced to her mother's home, jumping over a kneeling woman as she tended to her garden and trampling an unattended flower patch. It didn't matter. She had to get to Akari.

The front door to the home was wide open, Akari having been too distraught to bother closing it. Diayu's mother was not at home, which was all the better. The less people that knew about what was going on, the better. Daiyu rushed in and spun into the bedroom immediately to her left, Meemaw's room.

Akari was clutching onto her Great-Grandmother, bawling her eyes out as Meemaw rubbed her back comfortingly. Between sobs, she was heaving out a garbled recounting of everything that had happened. Meemaw was listening patiently, worried but sympathetic. When Daiyu frantically burst in, Meemaw barely lifted her head to acknowledge her. She continued to console the despondent Akari, shaking her head sadly.

"Poor thing. An airbender. I always knew." She muttered quietly, as a heavy sob racked over Akari. Meemaw patted her back.

"You knew?" Daiyu panted, trying to catch her breath from her mad dash. She collapsed into a nearby chair in exhausted disbelief.

"You _knew?_ _"_ She repeated, exacerbated. _"_ _How?"_

Meemaw was silent for a few moments. She continued to stroke Akari's back, her eyes averting Daiyu's. Pangs of regret hit her with every whimper that Akari made. There was so much pain and confusion inside of her. Meemaw knew that she was partially to blame. If she'd spoken up sooner, perhaps it wouldn't have come to this. She wrapped her arms around the young girl, holding her as tightly as she could. Taking a deep breath, she finally forced herself to look at her granddaughter.

"Do you remember the story I used to tell you about the little airbender girl?" Meemaw asked with a melancholic tone.

Daiyu crossed her arms, not at all in the mood for a story. "I remember. What does she have to do with _Akari?_ "

Akari sniffled and lifted her head, curious. "Dawa?" She recalled, her sobs having now subsided into snivels and pitiful hiccups. Meemaw nodded gravely.

"Yes, Dawa." She muttered. Another moment of silence passed as Meemaw closed her eyes and breathed deeply, struggling with what she had to say. Then, in a soft sigh, she made her confession.

" _I_ am Dawa. The girl in that story is me. I knew Akari was an airbender because I was an airbender too."

Akari pulled back out of her arms and stared up at her in astonishment.

"W...h-how?" Daiyu stammered. "How are you an... _airbender?"_

She glanced behind her at the door, as if afraid that the entire Fire Nation would be there listening. Or, worse yet, Hiroaki. It wouldn't be good if he overheard this, especially now.

"You know the story, Daiyu." Meemaw reminded her. "My mother and father escaped the genocide. They had me. Then, the Fire Nation found our group... _some_ of our group."

"But...but how did you survive? How did they not find you?" Daiyu demanded, not understanding how she would have escaped capture for so long.

"I ran away, at first." Meemaw explained. "I just kept running. I could run very fast back then, with the help of my bending. I ran until I reached the gates of Omashu. And I blended in as an orphan Earth Nation girl. I was just a little younger than Akari is now."

She reached out to pull Akari back to her, more for her own comfort now.

"I did whatever it took to live." She continued. "I stole, I threatened, and I cheated. Many days I starved and felt I would die. But I refused to perish like my people had. I grew up completely on my own, living off of people's random acts of kindness and my own cunning. Then I met my husband, a nonbending merchant from Yu Dao, and fell in love. I told him I had grown up in a village not far from Omashu, and had come to the city to find a better life. I told him I was Earth Nation. I even told him my mother had been an Earthbender. All lies. Lies to protect the both of us."

"Wait, how is it I'm not an airbender then?" Daiyu frowned. "Or mom? Or anyone else in our family?"

"I knew there was a chance any of my children could be benders." Meemaw said. "I chose to marry your grandfather not just because I loved him, but because he was a nonbender. I figured he'd only give me nonbenders."

She sighed sadly. "Even so, I was vigilant. I made sure not to get pregnant in the spring, so I wouldn't deliver in the autumn. I only had two living children, your father and your aunt. I watched for signs of bending, but they never showed any. And when they were grown I arranged their marriages so they'd have nonbending children themselves. They hated me for it, but it was to _protect_ them."

Anticipating Daiyu's next question, Meemaw answered it before she could even ask.

"When you married Hiroaki, I was at first glad to hear he was Fire Nation. That he came from a family with firebenders. If you had a bending child, it could only ever be a firebender." She shifted her eyes to look at Akari's, the same storm clouds as her father. "Then, when I came to see Akari and met Hiroaki for the first time, I saw his eyes. Gray is not a fire nation color."

Akari blinked at her great-grandmother, gingerly reaching up to touch the space beneath her eyes. Daiyu didn't understand what Meemaw was implying and she rubbed her forehead, overwhelmed.

"Are you saying that Hiroaki...that somehow _he's_ an airbender too?"

Meemaw cast a cynical look towards her. "No, child." She scorned. "I'm saying that somewhere in his family airbender blood mixed with Fire Nation. He carries it in him. And when you, the granddaughter of an airbender, had a child with him it became stronger. It caused you to give birth to the first new airbender in 84 years."

Daiyu's head spun and her stomach lurched. She couldn't tell if she needed to scream or vomit, but there was something of the sort brewing within her. She'd been raised to believe that every single airbender had died nearly a century ago. That it was impossible for there to be a living airbender anywhere in the world. She'd been told her family came from a strictly Earth Nation lineage, that her grandmother had grown up in a small village near Omashu. A very clear sense of betrayal washed over Daiyu as she realized her grandmother had been lying to her family for years. And she hadn't even bothered to tell _her_ , her favorite grandchild.

Meemaw could see the pain in Daiyu's eyes, and although it brought her great shame to know she'd hurt her, she knew there were more pressing matters. She leaned forward and lowered her voice, forcing Daiyu to lean in to hear her.

"Listen, sweetling. There's something I realized after the Fire Nation killed the last of my people. Something I need you to know now." She implored, and Daiyu, feeling the urgency in her words, nodded for her to continue.

"I realized that I had to _survive_. I had to do what it took to live, and that meant I had to be willing to do _whatever_ it took." She drew back, scowling unpleasantly. "My family was _slaughtered_ for being airbenders. They let go as much of their culture as they could to avoid that fate, but it wasn't enough. They still had their bending and their tattoos. I had to lose my bending."

Meemaw turned to Akari, and took her hands between her own.

"Airbending requires dedication to both practice and your own spirituality, Akari." She explained. "The less you practice and the more you detach yourself from your spiritual self, the weaker your bending becomes. I swore off all bending and abandoned my nomad teachings, to protect myself. I slowly lost the ability to airbend. By the time I met your Great-Grandfather, I couldn't even create a draft."

She squeezed Akari's hands so tight she winced. Despite her fragile age, she had a surprisingly strong grip.

"You must do the same. Promise me you'll never airbend again. Not once." Meemaw pleaded.

Akari balked at her request."But-"

Meemaw pulled Akari closer to her, and held her tiny hands up to her chest. There was a look of near desperation in her eyes.

"You must _promise_ me, Akari. If you airbend, you risk the Fire Nation finding you." She begged. "And if they find you, they will _kill_ you."

She turned to Daiyu, who looked just as much the scared and confused child as Akari.

"They'll kill everyone in our family. Anyone who could have airbender blood." Meemaw looked back at Akari, the resolve in her eyes strong. "If you airbend, you put us _all_ at risk, Akari."

The world seemed to close in on Akari as the weight of Meemaw's request fell on her. It didn't rest on her shoulders, as many would describe most heavy burdens, but it sat square on her chest. Pushing down on her lungs, pushing out all the air inside of her. Her bottom lip quivered as hot tears spilled down her cheeks. She looked down at her hands, which were shaking in Meemaw's. She didn't want to die. She didn't want anyone to die. She couldn't understand how her airbending meant the death of everyone she loved.

"Please. Promise me." Meemaw whispered, her voice a tad softer but still firm.

Akari hesitated, not wanting to give up her bending. She looked to her mother, hoping to hear from her that no, she wouldn't have to stop airbending. But she only found the same pleading look. Daiyu mouthed _please_ to her, and Akari felt her throat tighten. She nodded tentatively.

"Say it, Akari." Daiyu ushered quietly. Akari gulped, her voice quavering.

"I...I pr...promise." She choked. "I won't airbend again."

Meemaw nodded curtly, satisfied. She brought Akari's hands up and kissed them gently before releasing them, murmuring a _thank you_ into the kiss. Akari tucked her hands into her chest, huddling into herself. A knock came at the door, and Daiyu and Meemaw both snapped their heads up. Daiyu jumped to her feet once she remembered she was expecting someone.

"Oh, spirits. That must be Hiroaki." She breathed, moving to answer the door. Meemaw grabbed her wrist to hold her back. Daiyu turned, startled.

"There are sacrifices you have to make too, Daiyu." Meemaw's eyes bore into Daiyu's. Daiyu gasped, realizing what she meant, and yanked her hand away.

"He's my husband! And Akari's _father_ , he would never-"

"He's _Fire Nation_ , child!" Meemaw interrupted, fury in her voice. "He's a proud Fire Nation soldier who serves his nation loyally! Don't be so blind as to think he wouldn't turn in his own wife and child."

Daiyu felt anger burn inside of her. She knew Hiroaki was a loyal man, but he was loyal to her just as much as he was to his nation. He'd said so in their wedding vows. He'd told her as much when they'd had Akari and realized she was a child stuck between worlds (how little they'd known). He was angry and confused, but he'd understand when she explained how Akari had inherited her abilities.

"You don't know anything about my husband!" She huffed, certain of the love Hiroaki held for her and Akari. "He may be Fire Nation, but he is my husband and her father first."

Meemaw shook her head. "Daiyu, you need to think of Akari. Nothing is more important than your child. Do whatever it takes to protect her."

She narrowed her eyes. " _Whatever_ it takes."

Daiyu stubbornly huffed again and rushed out of the room. On the bed, Meemaw let out a long breath. Her heart couldn't take much more devastation. She could already feel her strength withering, tapped thin from all the morning's revelations. She melted back into her pillows, sighing. Next to her, Akari nervously wrung her hands. She couldn't understand what was wrong with her being an airbender, or why her father being Fire Nation was a bad thing. She didn't know why her father would turn her in when she hadn't done anything wrong. She didn't want to believe he _could_.

Akari wrapped her arms tight around herself and wished she could fly away to a different time and place. Somewhere less confusing, where she didn't have to hide her airbending. She imagined mountains miles away from where she was now, and pictured herself soaring above them. Below her, Air temples bustled with life, and her family stood smiling, waving up at her. Quietly, she slipped deep into her imagination, letting the mountains wall up around her, blocking the harsh reality outside of her head. Inside, the breeze was warm and she bended as freely as the boy in the village.

* * *

Daiyu peeked outside and saw a much calmer Hiroaki waiting for her. Quickly, she slipped out and shut the door behind her.

"Hiro, I-" She paused, not sure how to begin to explain everything she'd just learned. She gnawed on her bottom lip, glancing off to the side as if the dirt would help her figure out what to say. Finally, she managed to find the words.

"My grandmother is an airbender. That's how Akari got her bending."

Hiroaki felt his mouth gape open in shock. However, he was quick to compose himself, and he pressed his lips back together into a hard line. Crossing his arms, he looked Daiyu up and down.

"Are you?"

She shook her head. "No. My mother and father were nonbenders. So am I." She chose to leave out that Hiroaki likely came from airbenders as well, feeling that sharing that bit of information would only aggravate the situation.

Hiroaki was silent. He didn't question how her grandmother could've survived the genocide; he was quick to remember the story of Dawa and just how sad she'd been to tell it. Daiyu couldn't tell if he was relieved or still angry, as he'd withdrawn back into his stoicism. She felt shut out and she didn't like it.

"Do you believe me now that she's yours?" She asked tentatively. The corner of his mouth twitched and his eyes softened for a moment. It was a subdued wince, and Daiyu could tell that there was regret in it.

"I know she's mine, I shouldn't have said she wasn't." He bowed his head apologetically. "There's something more important that we need to talk about though, Daiyu."

Reassured by his apology, Daiyu allowed herself a small smile. It gave her hope for just a moment that they'd make it through as a family. Fire Nation or not, he was her husband and he would support his family. She knew he would.

"Of course," she said understandingly. "There's a lot we need to talk about. A lot we need to do for Akar-"

"You need to come with me to report her."

For the third time that day, Daiyu felt as if she'd just been suckerpunched. This metaphorical blow was particularly rough and pushed Daiyu back against the door. The color drained from her face.

"Wh...what?" She squeaked.

"We have to report her." He repeated calmly. "It's an old law, but it's still the law to report any and all living airbenders to the Fire Nation."

He hesitated, peering at the window of Meemaw's room. Night was beginning to fall, and the light from inside illuminated her and Akari's shadows as they settled into the bed. Meemaw's seemed to be turned towards them, and he knew she was watching their shadows as much as he was hers. He frowned.

"Of course, that means reporting your grandmother as well. And anyone else in your family that could be an airbender."

A surge of emotions rushed through Daiyu. She experienced rage, confusion, and sorrow all in one quick second before settling on a queasy sort of disappointment. Hot, angry tears simmered in the corners of her eyes.

"You'd report your own daughter instead of protecting her? What kind of man are you?!" She hissed savagely. She lunged forward and grabbed his jaw, yanking his face to her.

"Look me in the eyes and tell me that again! Tell me that you're willing to kill your own _child! Our_ child!" Her nails dug into his cheeks but he barely even flinched. There was nothing in his eyes, and Daiyu was terrified to see just how sure of his decision he was.

Hiroaki pulled her hand off of his face, her nails leaving behind pale crescent moons in his flesh. "I'm not killing her, Daiyu. I would never."

"No, you're just letting someone else do it _for_ you!" She shouted.

Hiroaki shushed her, and glanced out into the street. There weren't many people around, but of the few several had turned at the sound of shouting.

" _Quiet,_ Daiyu! The entire village doesn't need to know."

Daiyu felt a childish need to scream and stomp her foot just to spite him, but instead she stood in place and fumed. She glared at the people passing by, and they smartly chose to mind their business and keep walking. She huffed and dried her tears. Despite her anger, she knew he was right. The less people who knew, the better. She turned away from Hiroaki, unable to bear looking at him. Hiroaki sighed, sounding defeated.

"I'm not a cruel man, Daiyu. Please, believe me." He reached out to try and turn Daiyu back towards him, but she yanked her shoulder away. "But I have my duties to my nation that I can't abandon. Not even for you."

At hearing that, Daiyu spun around, eyes bulging out of astonishment. She couldn't believe she'd actually heard him say those words. She wished in that moment that she _was_ an airbender, so she could throw him back against a wall and scream at him.

Suddenly, Meemaw's voice whispered in the back of her head: _do whatever it takes to protect her_. Meemaw had been right all along, she realized. Hiroaki loved his nation first and his family second. And he couldn't harbor an airbender fugitive in his home, even if it was his own child. Nothing Daiyu could say or do could convince him otherwise. She hadn't even been able to convince him of the importance of Akari's Earth Nation heritage.

Daiyu held her head in her hands and leaned against the house. Hiroaki continued to explain to her why he was doing what he was, how they could have more children, good, nonbending Fire Nation children, and forget the trauma of Akari the airbender. So long as they destroyed any airbender children, of course. It all registered in her mind, but she numbed herself to the awful nature of his words. What a heartless, heartless man. And she loved him so much, it hurt to think of what she had to do next. Because she loved Akari more.

She wiped her eyes free of tears and slipped into her placating housewife persona as easily as she would her oldest dress. She reached out to touch Hiroaki's arm, and he stopped talking. She looked up at him with tears.

"Let's talk somewhere else, Hiro." She said quietly. "Let's go to our field. I don't want Akari to hear this."

Hiroaki seemed unsure, wanting to finish the ugly business of reporting the airbenders as quickly as possible. He glanced behind his wife at the house that harbored them. Daiyu could see his uncertainty, and she pulled at his arm, pulling him towards the woods that led to their field.

"They won't go anywhere. Meemaw can't walk on her own and Akari won't leave her now."

He deliberated for a moment, before following her. He owed her that much. It wouldn't be easy for her to understand and come to grips what they needed to do.

Daiyu let go of his arm, and tread ahead of him. With every step, she tried to replace all of her happy memories with Hiroaki with the events of the past few hours. Every gentle word and warm embrace became him accusing her of sleeping with someone else. Every secret smile twisted into him telling her he was going to allow the Fire Nation to kill their child. By the time they'd reached the field, night had fallen, and Daiyu was certain of what needed to happen. She had loved Hiroaki with all of her being, but she loved her daughter more. And her grandmother had been right.

She needed to do whatever it took to protect Akari.

* * *

Several hours later, Akari was forcibly shaken awake. Her eyes popped open and she shot up out of bed. A bedraggled Daiyu hovered over her, her silky hair tangled and her bottom lip bleeding. Once she saw that Akari was awake, she scooped her up and put her on her feet.

"We need to leave. _Now._ Grab a blanket, you can sleep on the road."

Akari rubbed the sleep out of her eyes. She'd passed out not long after her mother had left to talk to her father, drained from crying.

"Where are we going?" She yawned, before remembering everything that had happened earlier that day. Frowning, she watched her mother hurry to the other side of the bed, where Meemaw had a map spread in front of her. "What about papa?"

Daiyu flinched. "He's not coming."

Akari wanted to ask why and if he was still angry at her, but her mother ushered her to hurry up and stop asking questions. Obediently, Akari took the top blanket and wrapped herself in it. She peeked over the end of the bed at the map, and saw that Meemaw had highlighted some sort of path. She was too young to read a map, but she understood that it was leading far away from the village. Daiyu threw a sack over her shoulder, and took the map from Meemaw, eyeing it over.

"Sie Gan-Lan will be leaving for his yearly trip to Omashu soon." Meemaw explained. "He likes to begin his journey at night, so he gets there early in the morning. He'll be too tired to notice you climbing onto the back of his cart. But you'll need to hop off before he reaches the city."

Daiyu nodded and rolled up the map and tucked it into her apron. Meemaw reached out to squeeze her hand, offering her a comforting smile.

"Be safe. Don't stop until you're as far away from here as possible. And make sure you don't stop in any Fire Nation controlled villages." She warned.

Daiyu leaned over to kiss the top of her head and hesitated there. She clenched her eyes shut as she breathed in her perfume, knowing she'd never see her again. She waved Akari over, tears in her eyes.

"Come say goodbye to your Meemaw."

Unsure of what was going on, Akari tiptoed over to them. She opened her blanket-wrapped arms and embraced Meemaw. Meemaw held them both, praying that they'd have a safe journey. When they broke apart, Meemaw placed a weather hand onto Akari's shoulder.

"You remember what you promised me?" She asked. Akari shifted from one foot to the other and slightly nodded her head.

"Yes...I can't airbend." She muttered. Meemaw cupped her cheek and rubbed her thumb over her freckles.

"Good girl. Now, go with your mother and listen to everything she says."

Meemaw dropped her hand and Akari stepped back. They exchanged their goodbyes, and then Daiyu took Akari's hand. They moved briskly out of the home and into the cold night air. Following Meemaw's instructions, they found their way to Sie Gan-Lan's farm on the edge of the village. His cart was parked at the end of his fence, filled to the brim with cabbages. While he was busy at the head harnessing his ostrich-horse, Daiyu lifted Akari up onto the cartbed. As she settled into the cabbages, Daiyu clambered up to join her.

As soon as they'd both hidden themselves amongst Sie's crop, he leapt up into the driver's seat. With a quick whip of the reins, they were on their way. Daiyu pulled Akari into her lap and they watched as their village slowly disappeared down the road. Akari whispered a goodbye, wondering if she'd ever see it again.

For the first few miles they rode in absolute silence. Every so often, Daiyu would begin to sniffle and turn her head to silently sob. She'd cover her mouth to stifle the sound of her cries so Sie wouldn't hear, but she couldn't hide it from Akari. Akari had just hugged her mother, kissing her cheek and telling her it'd be alright. Finally, after about the fifth time her mother had erupted into silent sobs, she looked at Akari hard. Confused, the child drew back, thinking she'd done something wrong.

"Are you ok, mommy?" She asked quietly, careful not to bring her voice above a whisper.

Daiyu just stared at her strangely, mulling something over. Then she smiled.

"I'm alright, Genji." She cooed.

Akari furrowed her little brows. Puzzled, she glanced behind her, thinking that someone must've climbed on behind her. No one was there. But there was no way she was talking to _her._

Thinking she was disorientated from her crying (as Akari would often become confused after crying herself), she vehemently shook her head.

"No, mommy, my name's _A-kar-i_ _._ " She pointed at herself and drew out her name, as if her mother didn't already know how to say it. "Remember? Daddy named me Akari because-"

She stammered, trying to remember just _why_ her father had given her that name. Daiyu frowned and grabbed Akari by the shoulders.

"No, Akari doesn't exist anymore." She said sternly, and Akari's face twisted in bewilderment. "Akari was a little Fire Nation girl. You are _Genji_ _,_ a good Earth Nation girl who listens to her mother."

Confused and a bit frustrated, Akari pouted and again shook her head. "No!" She insisted, raising her voice a little. "My name is Akari! And I'm half Fire-"

Daiyu slapped her hand over Akari's mouth, much to her surprise. She didn't do it very hard, but it still hurt. Akari began to bawl, and Daiyu shushed her.

"Quiet, _Genji._ We don't want Sie to know we're back here." She whispered harshly, peering over the mountain of vegetables to see if the merchant had noticed. "He's very protective of his cabbages."

Her daughter, now very unsure of who she was or what her own name was, whimpered behind her hand.

"Now," Daiyu began, "when I take my hand away, you're going to tell me your name, ok?"

Akari gestured her understanding, feeling a little frightened. So much was happening and she didn't understand a single bit of it. Daiyu took her hand off of her mouth, and Akari licked her lips, tasting the salt of her confused tears.

"G...Genji..." She said with a shaking breath. She sniffled and lifted the collar of her dress over her nose to wipe off the snot.

Daiyu looked at her and softened her expression.

"Oh, I'm sorry." She crooned. "I didn't mean to hurt you, baby. You were just being too loud."

The little girl formerly known as Akari sniffled again, and Daiyu felt a pain deep in her heart. She truly hadn't meant to hurt her. Soon, she was blubbering like a baby and had her daughter wrapped up in her arms, apologizing profusely. She repeated the girl's new name over and over again as she apologized, as if reminding herself of the new identity as well. Her daughter buried her face in the crick of her elbow, listening to her name. To herself, she repeated it over and over again, not wanting to upset her mother. Finally, when she lifted her head and dried her eyes, Akari was abandoned. Instead, smiling reassuringly at her mother, was Genji.

For the rest of their ride, Genji relaxed in her mother's arms as she hummed a quiet lullaby. Genji didn't dare ask where they were going and Daiyu didn't bother to explain. The cart rattled on down the road, carrying them far away from their home and far away from the world of Akari, Hiroaki, and Meemaw.


	4. The Avatar

**The Avatar**

* * *

**99 AG: Winter**

Omashu was promptly abandoned a mere year and a half after they arrived. It made Genji's mother too nervous, as it was, in her opinion, an overcrowded and seedy metropolis. And it was much too _dusty_. Like many of the poor folk living in Omashu, they had lived in the lower levels, far beneath the famous mail chutes. Dirt had constantly rained down on them, and it had taken just one hit-the-ceiling sneeze to convince Daiyu that it was too risky to stay.

Eventually, they had settled in a tiny village somewhere between Omashu and the Foggy Swamp. It was so small it didn't have a name, but not so small that it didn't have its own (decently stocked) market. Her mother used the last of their silver to pay a local earthbender to erect a hut further out in the woods. From there they began their new lives.

Their new lives, as Genji discovered, were ones of near isolation. Her mother wasn't keen on socializing with the locals, not out of any feelings of enmity, but for her own survival. As she'd explained to a seven year old Genji, the more people who knew them, the bigger the risk that they'd be discovered. And discovery meant being reported to the Fire Nation, a term synonymous with _death_. So, they avoided mingling with the locals whenever they could. Trips to the market were once a month affairs that lasted only as long as it took to haggle prices, fill their basket, and turn to make the trip back home.

The years trudged on. As they did, a change began to overcome Genji and her mother. Genji watched as her mother slowly transformed from a playful sprite to an anxious wretch, constantly fretting over the thought of them being found. Every shadow became a Fire Nation soldier on their way to murder them, every whisper a conspiracy to turn them in.

At night, she'd mutter a prayer of protection to herself over and over again, before pushing Genji to do the same. She wouldn't be allowed to sleep until she'd prayed to the spirits for protection and apologized to them for endangering her family with her bending. Once she'd finished, her mother would tearfully remind her that they did everything for their protection. Genji would quietly acknowledge this before slinking off to bed, falling asleep to the sound of her mother's sobs as she muttered her own apologies to the spirits, her grandmother, and Genji. Occasionally, she would hear her mother choke out an apology to her father as well.

Of course, as the years passed, Genji felt a change come over herself as well. As a young girl, she'd tried her best to keep her promise to Meemaw, suppressing her bending as best she could. Much of it was as involuntary as breathing or blinking, so it felt nearly impossible to do so. But she tried. She tried desperately for her mother, who had given up everything to protect her. She tried for Meemaw, who had forsaken her own bending in order to save herself and her descendants. She truly tried.

However, the more she grew and the more punitive her mother became, the less she wanted to keep trying. A silent rebelliousness began to flourish within her. She listened to her mother and did as she was told, but secretly rejected her belief that the only way to stay safe was to do as Meemaw had done. Instead, she came to her own conclusion that her safety meant nothing if it required killing off a part of herself. She came to this conclusion from their monthly market trips.

Whenever they went to the market, Genji would watch the local benders practice their craft. There were only a handful of Earthbenders, but they were fiercely proud and greatly respected. She would study their movements with envy. They practiced almost every single day, sometimes using their abilities to help repair a home that had been destroyed by a falling tree, other times training for battle.

One day, she'd asked why they weren't afraid of the Fire Nation finding them. There were villages in the Earth Kingdom that were being punished for harboring Earthbenders now; she'd overheard them discussing the tragedy of it. They had looked at the young Genji gravely. Sternly, they told her that they were not ashamed to be benders; that to suppress their abilities was to kill themselves before the Fire Nation did. Abandoning one's bending was to detach oneself from their own culture and people. It was as unnatural and illogical as cutting off an arm to save the leg. They would rather die fighting than to waste away living a lie.

Listening to them, Genji had suddenly realized that she didn't want to live as her Meemaw had. If she extinguished her bending, it would be as if she were helping the Fire Nation exterminate the Air Nomads. She was the last airbender, and although she knew almost nothing of her culture or its practices, its survival rested on her tiny shoulders. If she were to abandon it and live like the nonbender Earth Nation girl her mother wanted her to, she would live, but at the expense of her people, a people she'd been robbed of knowing. It was at that moment that she'd decided to abandon the survival dogma her mother raised her under. She began secretly practicing her bending deep in the marsh by their home, far away from any prying eyes.

However, her belief that she was the last airbender was about to be joyfully shattered.

The winter after Genji's fifteenth birthday, rumors began to spread that the Avatar was alive.

When word finally arrived to their village, Genji and her mother were once again at the market, desperately searching for a new pot. They'd had the same cheap pot for fourteen years, and the night before it had finally succumbed to its age, collapsing into a useless hollow tube.

Genji stood at her mother's side, watching as she perused the coppersmith's wares. There were only a few pots to choose from, but they were all quite expensive and they had very little money. They had to be sure that they picked something durable but somewhat affordable if they wanted to be able to afford supplies on their next market trip. Daiyu carefully picked up one of the smaller, cheaper pots and carefully examined it. She ran her finger over the bottom, feeling for cracks or imperfections.

"Mmmmm...a fine pick for a fine lady." Purred the vendor from behind the table. "But so painfully cheap and plain, wouldn't a goddess such as yourself prefer something just as _exquisite_ _?_ "

He picked up a large, sturdy pot fashioned with handles in the shape of thick, interweaving vines. It was lined with various metals and looked incredibly expensive.

Internally, Genji cringed, and wished that there was anywhere else that they could go for their cookware. Sadly, there was only the one coppersmith, and he was known to be a horrendous flirt with his female customers. Worse yet, he was particularly fond of Genji's mother. He always had especially _sweet_ things to say to her whenever he saw her, and would promise lofty discounts if she'd only come to dinner with him. Of course, Daiyu declined each time he did.

Daiyu took the pot from his hands, lifting it a few times to get a sense of its weight. She nodded at its robustness.

"It's quite sturdy...but you know I couldn't afford anything like this." She said.

At this, the man's lips curled back into a grotesque sneer. It was his attempt at a seductive smirk, but he lacked the muscle control and the basic attractiveness to pull it off. It made Genji's stomach churn. She couldn't understand how her mother could withstand such a man for even half a second.

"Ohhh, don't worry about that, _sugarcup_." He waved his hand and leaned forward on his forearms. "For _you_ , it's half off. I like the look of you, all those pretty freckles. It's good luck for an Earth Nation woman to have freckles. Blessed by the Earth she is. So, for you, only fifty copper coins."

Unable to withstand the sweet talk, Genji rolled her eyes and turned away. Her mother tried to tempt him to lower the price by another ten coins, ignoring his advances. Genji wandered to a different stall which was selling various baked goods. The smell of custard tarts, puffs, and tanghulu was almost intoxicating. Genji's mouth watered as she eyed over all the sweet treats, wishing she had the money to purchase one. It felt like years since she'd last enjoyed a treat like that.

The shopkeeper paid Genji no mind. She was more focused on her discussion with the two women at the other end of her stand. As Genji eyed a strawberry tanghulu, wondering at how they'd managed to get strawberries in the dead of winter, she managed to overhear a few words.

"They say he was spotted on Kyoshi Island, heading north." One woman whispered to the shopkeeper, who craned her head forward to listen.

"Covered in blue arrows...last of his kind...can you believe it?" Added the second woman.

Curious, Genji stopped ogling the candy to look at them.

"Word is he was going to the North Water Tribe to find a Waterbender master...over 100 years old and he hasn't already done it?" Said the first woman with a shake of her head. "And here I thought the world had its savior."

"But that's the thing!" Chirped the second woman, eyes wide with excitement at the gossip. "He's not 100 at all! _I_ heard he's just a little boy."

The elderly shopkeeper scrunched her face and drew back with a scoff.

"Bah!" She exclaimed. "A bunch of hogwash. The fishermen on Kyoshi all have mud for brains; you'd be foolish to believe anything they have to say. Just last year they swore that their Unagi was really a _dragon_ spying on them for the Fire Nation."

Genji couldn't help but continue to openly eavesdrop, wondering who in the world they were referring to. They continued to gossip, the first woman assuring the shopkeeper that she'd received her information from valid sources while the second was quick to interrupt with corrections she'd learned from her _own_ sources. The shopkeeper remained unconvinced, insisting that they were both misinformed. That there was no way he could've survived, much less not be a feeble old man.

"Excuse me..." Genji, overtaken with curiosity, quietly spoke up. "Who are you talking about?"

Their chattering stopped and all three women looked at Genji in slight shock. They'd been so swept up in their own gossiping that they'd practically forgotten there was a world around them. Then, when they recognized Genji as the quiet daughter of Daiyu the recluse, they raised their eyebrows in disbelief. The two women exchanged a brief glance, as if asking one another if they could let her in on their secret. The shopkeeper, who was quite used to Genji's presence at her cart, shook her head at their hesitation.

"Oh, come now." She scolded. "It's not some national secret."

She shook her head at them and turned to Genji.

"There've been some hooligans claiming they've seen the Avatar." She explained with a dismissive wave of her hand. "Baseless rumors, all of it."

Genji blinked in astonishment. The Avatar had died over 100 years ago when the Airbenders had all been murdered. This was very common knowledge, and it was well known that the Avatar Cycle had broken with their death. Or, at least, it should've.

"The Avatar?" She repeated, scarcely believing it herself. "The new Avatar?"

Genji knew, as most people did, that water came after air in the Avatar cycle . The Air Avatar had died in the genocide, so that meant they must be referring to the new Avatar, a waterbender. He would've been born after the death of his predecessor, so he would've been around 100 years old, she supposed. That would make some sense. But the other woman had claimed that the new Avatar wasn't an old man at all, but a young boy. An earthbending Avatar then? Had the cycle continued without anyone knowing?

The woman who had corrected her companion quickly jumped in.

"No! From what I've heard, it's an _airbender_ Avatar!" She proclaimed with an overly excited smile. "Isn't that _amazing_ _?_ 100 years after the genocide and somehow, the Avatar survived!"

The world seemed to fade away the moment the word _airbender_ left the woman's lips. Genji nearly forgot how to breathe as the word reverberated in her ears. For fifteen long years, she'd been raised to believe that the airbenders had all died. That the Avatar, the only hope in thwarting the Fire Nation's imperialistic plans, had died with them. It should've been impossible for the Avatar to be alive, let alone be an _airbender_. The shock rendered Genji immobile for a good thirty seconds, as she tried to wrap her head around the news.

The moment she regained her senses, two thoughts collided in her mind, each carrying its own distinct emotion.

The first thought, which flooded her with cool relief, was: _Thank the spirits_ I'm _not the Avatar._

It had been a fear of hers once she'd learned that the Avatar was supposed to have been born an airbender. As a little girl, she'd stressed over the idea that perhaps the cycle _hadn't_ been broken, and that maybe _she_ was the Avatar. She'd tried to use the other forms of bending, but had failed to produce anything more than gusts of wind. Her mother had caught her and punished her for bending, then sternly informed her that it was impossible for her to be the Avatar. He'd been born sometime before the Genocide and died with them. If anything, her existence simply allowed the cycle to continue, and he was a water or earthbender by now. Still, that hadn't stopped little Genji from fearing that the balance of the world hung on her tiny shoulders.

Her second thought, which replaced her relief with elation, was _I'm not alone_.

Fifteen years of isolation. Fifteen years of believing that she was the very last airbender in the (formerly) four nations. And now there was someone else. Genji could feel absolute joy fill her body, and she bit her lip to fight back a smile.

Realizing that she'd been standing in stunned silence for an uncomfortable amount of time and that the women were giving her odd looks, Genji stammered back to life.

"U-um...an airbender? Are you sure? They all died a century ago."

The shopkeeper eyed her up and down, before simply shrugging off the semi-cataotnic state Genji had just broken herself out of. Shock tended to do that to a person, after all.

"That's right, _everyone_ knows that." She agreed curtly, raising an eyebrow at the women as if challenging them. "The Fire Nation killed them all, the fiery bastards."

She turned and spat on the ground behind her, punctuating her disgust. One of the women, the more skeptical of the duo, shrugged aloofly.

"I'm just repeating what I heard." She explained. "He's been spotted in multiple villages and he's wearing monk robes with a bald head and blue tattoos."

The other woman jumped in, nodding enthusiastically. Genji wasn't sure if she was simply excited at having _juicy_ gossip or if she was genuinely happy to know the Avatar was alive. Either way, it was almost indecent how giddy she was.

"Sounds like an airbender to me!" She nearly shrieked, then sighed dramatically. "It's almost dreamy to think about it; thought to be long dead and then all of a sudden both the Avatar and the airbenders are reborn in one! The war will end now for sure!"

The shopkeeper and the dramatic woman's companion simultaneously rolled their eyes. They continued to bicker over the validity of the rumors. Genji fiddled with her fingers, absentmindedly pulling at the dark green gloves that covered her arms. Their words drowned out as she became lost in thought. Another airbender. She sucked in her lips to hide a small smile, as she repeated the words over and over again in her head. There was another airbender.

Genji nearly jumped out of her skin when she heard an exasperated sigh come from behind her. She spun around to see her mother. She had the large pot under one arm while she wiped at her mouth with the back of her hand. When she saw Genji jump, she took a step back and raised her brows. Genji apologized under her breath, before noticing the pot. She frowned and pointed at it.

"Wasn't that too expensive?"

Daiyu glanced down at the pot, shifting it so that it sat cradled in both arms, before looking sheepishly back up at Genji.

"It _was_..." She muttered. "But I managed to haggle it down to thirty coppers..."

Genji was impressed. The coppersmith, as much as he was fond of her mother, was fairly firm on his prices. If he offered a discount, you'd be smart to accept it, otherwise he might not sell to you at all. She almost didn't want to know how her mother had accomplished it. But, sadly, curiosity killed the cat and she _did_ want to know.

"How...?" She asked cautiously.

Daiyu grimaced and lowered her voice. "I had to kiss him on the cheek."

Genji feigned gagging and cut a glance back to the coppersmith's stall. The man was absolutely beaming, sitting behind his table and swinging his legs back and forth like a child. She gave her mother a sympathetic look, and Daiyu smiled, a somewhat rare sight.

"Yeah...I know." She groaned. "Let's go home so I don't have to think about it too much longer."

For a moment, Genji thought to tell her mother right then and there what she'd learned. That the Avatar, an airbender, had returned. However, she thought better of it. Trips to market made her mother uncomfortable; she was already eyeing the three women suspiciously. It was better to discuss the matter at home, where her mother would be less anxious.

Genji dutifully took the pot from her mother's arms and smiled back at her.

"I can remake that stew that killed our last pot."

Daiyu tore her eyes from the gossiping women. She forgot her suspicion as she looked at Genji with pride. She linked her arms with one of hers and smiled brightly.

"What a good daughter I have." She beamed. "So responsible and thoughtful."

Genji was delighted to see her mother in such a good mood. As they walked back home, she leaned against her happily, making a mental checklist of all the ingredients she'd need for their dinner. She wanted to make it especially good. After all, there was no better way to prep someone for good news than a good meal.

* * *

As it turned out, Genji didn't even have to wait for dinner to make her announcement. As they stood in the kitchen preparing the food, Daiyu accosted her before Genji could even finish planning how best to phrase the news.

"So, what exactly were you talking about with those women?" She asked, her back to Genji as she grinded spices for their stew.

Genji's stomach knotted up when she heard the very definite tone of suspicion in her voice. She wasn't very surprised, though. Her mother was prone to sudden mood shifts, often triggered by trips to the market. She had hoped, however, that she would've kept her good mood for the rest of the evening and forgotten about her mistrust of the locals. Apparently not.

Genji watched her mother's arms move swiftly as she crushed dried fire peppers, the one Fire Nation product they'd kept from their colony days. In front of Genji, oil sizzled noisily in their new pot. She hesitated, not sure how to react for a moment, before deciding to simply share what she'd learned. Her mother's suspicion would be quickly quelled once she knew the good news.

"Nothing bad." She promised. "In fact, I heard something really interesting from them, something you'd like to hear."

Her mother turned her head slightly to show she was listening. She dusted the crushed peppers into a bowl filled with various other spices then handed it to Genji. Genji took the bowl and tossed it into the oil, careful to stand away from the pops of burning liquid. As she did, she recounted what she'd overheard that afternoon.

"Some news came from Kyoshi island that the Avatar's returned." She looked at her mother, and bit the inside of her cheek to contain her excitement. "Not only that, they say he's an _airbender_. Wearing monk robes and everything, like airbenders would before the genocide."

Daiyu stiffened, and Genji took it to mean that she'd become frozen out of shock, much like she had when she'd first heard the news. Genji stirred the simmering spice-infused oil for a moment before setting her spoon down. The oil grew hotter as she let her excitement brew over into a cascade of words.

"Isn't that amazing? The Avatar's back and he's an _airbender_ , like I am, like Meemaw was." Genji beamed, clasping her hands to her heart. "Do you know what this _means_ , mom? It means we don't have to hide anymore!"

Genji looked down at her gloved hands.

"It means _I_ don't have to hide anymore. I can finally embrace my heritage, my _culture_. I can finally _be_ an airbender."

Daiyu slammed the pestle she'd used to grind the peppers onto the table. Genji flinched and instinctively tucked her hands behind her back, like she'd done when she was a child and she'd been caught bending. Her mother whipped around, her expression wild and almost unreadable. Genji took a step back.

"I...Isn't that...good news?" She stammered, confused by the odd aura her mother was projecting.

" _Good_ news?" Her mother repeated, aghast. She slapped a palm to her forehead, looking overwhelmed and frightened. "How in the world could it be _good_ news that you plan to _reveal_ yourself to the Fire Nation?!"

Genji blinked several times, trying to process what her mother had said.

"Wh...what?" She was baffled by her mother's reaction. "I...I never said I was going to...?"

"That's what it means when you say you can be an airbender!" Her mother interrupted.

She shook her head, and her fingers curled on her forehead as if to grasp it in pain. "Spirits, Genji, why do you always try so hard to put yourself in _danger_ _?_ I've tried so hard to keep you safe, to keep _us_ safe, but you refuse to keep your end of the bargain!"

Genji withered into herself, knowing her mother was referring to all of the times she'd caught her airbending. She nervously picked at lint on her gloves to distract herself from her mother's sudden anger.

"But he's the _Avatar_." She muttered. "He's the only one who can save us... who can save the _world_."

Her mother scoffed. "If there's any truth to what those _women-_ " she snarled the word, as if enraged that they'd dared to gossip about such matters within earshot of Genji "-said, then that man is going to be killed. The Fire Nation will find him, and they will _kill_ him. And they'll do the same to you and me if you try to follow him!"

Genji frowned at that. She'd heard the same thing over and over since she was a little girl. If she so much as breathed the wrong way, the Fire Nation would find her and kill her and everyone she knew. She was tired of hearing it. Tired of living without hope, and tired of living a lie. She bit her lip as she felt anger begin to burn inside of her. Behind her, the oil popped and sizzled in the pot, the spices growing hotter inside.

"That's not true." She quietly protested. "You don't know that that's going to happen. He could _defeat_ the Fire Nation. He could kill the Fire Lord like he killed my ancestors and stop the war."

Daiyu rubbed her temples with both hands now, and shook her head viciously. The oil popped louder.

"He didn't kill your ancestors, because you're a good Earth Nation girl, _Genji_." Daiyu threw her hands down and stared hard at her daughter. "You're _not_ an airbender and you're _not_ an Air Nomad, you're an Earth Nation girl who's heard a rumor and is smart enough to know not to believe it. That's who you need to be to _survive_."

"But I _am_ an airbender!" Genji argued, locking eyes with her mother and pleading for her to listen. "And I want to have hope that I don't have to pretend that I'm not! I want to believe that the rumors are true, that we can live without ignoring who we are! I'm tired of living a lie!"

Daiyu snatched Genji's hands and pulled her close to her. Genji flinched and wriggled to get away.

"Lower your voice, Genji." Her mother practically hissed. "You don't know who could be listening!"

"Nobody's listening, we live in the middle of a stupid, bog-filled forest!" Genji tried to pull away, but her mother only tightened her grip. "That hurts!"

Daiyu shook her head erratically. "I don't want to see you _hurt_ , Genji. There are things we have to _do_ , things we have to give _up_ , in order to live! There's no one that's going to save us. Just like there was no one to save Meemaw's families or all the other airbenders."

Genji yanked back, but to no avail. Hot tears started to fill her eyes. " _Please_ , let go." Another pop of the oil sounded off behind her.

Daiyu, who almost didn't seem to hear her daughter's cries, pulled Genji as close as she could. "If it's true, the Fire Nation _will_ kill him and then _we'll_ be next. I don't want you to die, Genji. I _l_ _ove_ you, I've done so much for you, _please_ , forget this silly idea of living as an airbender. Keep your promise to me and Meemaw!"

"Let _go_ _!_ " Genji shrieked, and ripped her hands free of the gloves. She flipped her palms up and out in a shoving motion, blasting her mother clear across the room. Daiyu cried out as her back hit the wall, still clutching Genji's dark green gloves as she slid to the floor.

Tears streamed down Genji's cheeks as she and her mother stared at each other. Her now gloveless arms were still outstretched, openly displaying angry red scars. Daiyu stared at Genji, first in angry shock that she'd bended at her, but then in shame as her gaze shifted to her horribly disfigured arms. Burn scars covered her from palm to elbow, the affected skin raised and misshapen. Daiyu gasped, horrified as she realized that she'd been hurting Genji.

"Oh...Genji, I'm so...I didn't mean to...I'm sor-" She started to choke out an apology, but just as she words began to leave her lips, the overheated spices exploded in the pot. The sound, although harmless to the pot, was catastrophic and loud. Genji immediately jumped away from the furnace. When she did, she floated effortlessly through the air and landed noiselessly a good few feet away. She snatched her gloves back from her mother and then ran out the room.

Daiyu reached out to try and stop her, but was too late. She was left with only dust and the nauseating smell of badly burned spices. She looked over at the pot, hung her head, and began to cry.

* * *

Outside, Genji ran as fast as she could, which was quite fast with the aid of her bending. At the moment, she didn't particularly care if she _was_ caught and turned in to the Fire Nation. She just wanted to get away from her mother.

Her chest heaved with long, drawn-out sobs as she tore through the forest, leaping over the softer spots where firm land gave way into the marsh. She ran a mile or two in, following a familiar path that only she herself knew. She flew over large patches of murky water and bounded over dead trees that jutted out from the depths of the marsh. She ran until she reached a formidable log, the giant corpse of a long-dead tree that stood taller than any wall she'd ever seen. Taller, even, than the great walls of Ba Sing Se.

The trees on either side of it had grown so close together that going around was virtually impossible. Genji, however, knew of another way. She jumped to a boulder that she had once worked tirelessly to push (using her bending, of course) up against the tree. Using it as a launching point, she leapt up a good fifteen or so feet and landed on top of the massive fallen tree. From there, she ran down its length in the direction of the roots.

The tree was semi-hollow, having been carved out from its base by various decomposers many years ago. Its rind was still thick and strong though, so it didn't cave under Genji's feet as she ran. The roots had mostly fallen off and been reabsorbed by the Earth, leaving behind a giant maw much like that of a dark cave. Dropping down to the ground, cushioning her fall with a blanket of air, Genji fell back into that cave. Slumping against the petrified walls, she wrapped her arms around her knees and cradled her head between them.

She sat there for a good long while, crying until she was left with raw eyes and quavering breath. She loved her mother deeply, and knew that she meant it when she told her she only wanted to protect her. But she couldn't bear it when she behaved this way. When she let her paranoia and anxiety overwhelm her. They couldn't hide forever, imagining demons in every corner of the world. Even Meemaw had ventured out and actually lived life, finding love and starting her own family. She hadn't been afraid of people like her mother was.

Genji sniffled as she thought of her Meemaw. She hadn't seen her since she was six years old, on the fateful day when she'd discovered her true heritage (or part of it, at least). She wondered if she was still alive, and if she ever regretted her decision to abandon her culture. Did she regret telling Genji and her mother that they had to make sacrifices? Would she have agreed with Genji if she knew the Avatar had returned, or would she usher her to remain in hiding like her mother? There was no telling.

Genji sighed and lifted her head, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. She wished she could go back home, to the colony she'd long forgotten the name of, and ask Meemaw for help. She'd beg her to tell her more about the Air Nomads, and to have her make a new promise to upkeep their traditions, not forget them. But she couldn't.

A twig snapped outside and Genji's shot straight to her feet. She looked around for something she could use to protect herself. There were strange creatures that lurked at the edge of the Foggy Swamp, and she wasn't keen on meeting her ancestors at their hands. Her eyes landed on a sizable rock and she grabbed it.

"Back off!" She yelled with all her might, readying her arm to throw her weapon of choice.

"Whoa, eh! Es jus me!" Came a familiar voice.

Genji dropped her rock.

" _Keemo?_ "

From the thick marsh vegetation came a young man who looked a few years older than Genji. He was tall and thin, wearing only a loincloth made out of carefully woven plant fibers and a giant leaf as a hat. He had tanned olive skin similar to Genji's, a square jaw that was dusted with fine brown stubble, and an endearing aquiline nose that drew one's attention straight to his face. He smiled crookedly at Genji, showing off a snaggletooth that had grown above two of his right-side teeth. His lucky tooth, as he called it.

He was Keemo, Genji's one and only friend.

Genji sighed in relief, glad to see him and not some ravenous swamp animal. Then, she kicked her former weapon at him out of frustration.

"You scared me half to death!" She huffed. "I could've hit you!"

Keemo laughed and kicked the rock back as if they were playing a game.

"Nah, you woulda missed foh sure!"

He saw how red and puffy Genji's eyes were and his smile fell into a concerned frown. Then his eyes drifted down to her bare arms, and he gave her a sympathetic glance. Realizing she was still holding her gloves, but not actually wearing them, Genji scrambled to shove her hands back in. She turned her back so he couldn't see her as she did this. Respectfully, Keemo turned away as well to give her her privacy. He knew how sensitive she was about her scars.

"You and your momma fight again?" He asked softly.

Genji smoothed out the wrinkles in her gloves and nodded sullenly.

"Yeah..." She murmured. "She just...she got overwhelmed again."

Glancing over his shoulder first to check if she'd put her gloves back on, Keemo turned towards her. He came up to her and gently spun her around by her shoulders. Up close, he smelled of rich earth and saltwater. It was a pleasant smell that she knew well. Genji craned her head to look up at him, gray eyes meeting green. Keemo pulled her into a hug and patted the top of her head to comfort her.

"S'alright. We're in yer cave now. Ain't nothing gonna hurt you here." He said soothingly. Then he smirked down at her. "'Cept maybe the catgators!"

Genji felt herself smile and wrap her arms around him, returning his embrace. She was glad to have him.

When Genji and her mother had first arrived at their new home, there hadn't been any children of Genji's age. They were all either surly teenagers or suckling infants, neither of which made very good playmates. After her first big fight with her mother, Genji had run away into the forest. She'd gotten lost, before eventually finding the giant tree. She hadn't had the boulder to help her back then, but she'd been much smaller than she was now, so she'd managed to crawl between a small space in the wall of trees.

That was when she'd met Keemo, a member of the Foggy Swamp Tribe. His family lived on the edge of the swamp, acting as a barrier between it and the members of Genji's village. The giant tree had once been an epicenter of a small subsection of the swamp, and his family belonged to a smaller tribe that had once served to protect it. Keemo was the only child of his tribe, and would often wander to the tree in the hope of running into the village children playing. They never did, of course, as their parents warned them away from the edge of the swamp with threats of child-swallowing bogs. So when Genji had wriggled out from between the trees, he'd been delighted to have met someone remotely his age. Their friendship had blossomed from there.

Genji sighed and drew back from Keemo's arms. His arms fell down to her waist, holding her gently, and hers rested on top of his. It was as if they were cradling each other.

"Can we just sit here and talk for a little bit?" She asked quietly. "I just need a moment away."

Keemo nodded, and they sat down where Genji had been curled up crying not too long ago. Keemo didn't quite sit but instead squatted, knees bent up and hips dipped low to the ground. Genji paid him no mind, quite used to his somewhat odd ways by now.

"So, what was it y'all was fighting 'bout this time?" He asked, tilting his head to the side. Genji hesitated and he gave her another crooked smile, poking her in the side. "Aw, c'mon, y'know you'll feel better after talking about it!"

Genji blew her long, side-swept bangs out of her face and let out a long, deep sigh. She propped her elbow up on one of her knees and rested her chin in her palm.

"It was about something I heard this morning I..." Genji paused. Even Keemo didn't know that she was an airbender. She'd been sure to keep her secret...well, a _secret_. She didn't want to risk Keemo's life by revealing herself fully to him. Genji thought about how to rephrase her most recent argument with her mother, and came upon what she thought was a pretty good solution.

"I heard the Avatar's back, and it gave me hope that the war was going to end. She didn't agree and told me I was childish for believing a rumor."

"So we just went back and forth talking about how the world's going to change or not change...I kept trying to tell her we couldn't keep hiding from the Fire Nation, that we had hope now...but you know my mom. She wouldn't listen. She kept insisting that if it was true, if he was back, then we were all going to die, not be saved. It didn't make sense. And so we kept arguing and arguing until she grabbed my hands and...accidentally pulled my gloves off."

Genji glanced down at her gloves, fiddling with some loose stitching on the fingertips. She pressed her lips together into a firm line. "She didn't mean it...she wasn't trying to hurt me...she just...hasn't been the same since we left home..."

"Yer mama don't take good enough care of you sometimes." He tisked. "You know we'd take mighty good care of ya over in the swamp!"

He reached over and placed a gentle hand over Genji's and squeezed it so she'd know it was there. She didn't have much feeling in her hands anymore because of her burns, but she could feel pressure well enough. And he smiled that hooded-eyed smile that Genji knew he reserved only for her.

"Ya know _I'd_ take mighty good care of you."

Genji looked from his hand on hers to his special smile, and then back down at their hands. She deliberated for a second, before shifting so her hand interlocked with his.

Then, Keemo leaned forward and kissed her. It was a soft, but firm kiss and his lips tasted like wild berries. Genji kindly returned the gesture. When she felt his kiss grow needier, she broke away with another, sadder sigh.

Keemo had been trying to convince her to run away with him from the moment he'd heard about her first spat with her mother. The plans had changed each time he'd suggested it. The first time, it had been that they would run away together and live as the Earth Queen and King in Ba Sing Se (they'd only been 8 and 10 at the time). Over the years, his requests had gotten more reasonable, and, once they'd reached puberty, they'd always be followed with a kiss. Genji knew that Keemo loved her deeply, and she loved him too. She just wasn't sure if her love was the same sort that he had for her or if she could ever follow through with his plans to run away for good.

Genji squeezed his hand and gave him a melancholic look.

"I love you, Keemo." She said. "But you know I can't do that. I'm the only one my mom has left. She _needs_ me."

Keemo nodded his understanding and acceptance. Of course, that wouldn't keep him from asking again, and Genji knew that. Somehow, she relied on that, just being able to know that it was an option. He gave her another one of his endless grins.

"That's what I like most aboutcha, ya care for yer family."

They settled against the wall of the tree and continued to talk for another hour or so, their hands remaining interlocked. Eventually, once night had fallen outside of their hideaway, Genji decided it was long past time for her to return home. She and Keemo exchanged goodbyes and a few more rather affectionate touches before breaking apart for the night. Genji waited until Keemo had disappeared in the distance before bouncing from one tree to the next to reach the top of the giant log. Then she quickly made her way back home, hoping her mother had not stayed up waiting for her.


	5. Aang

**Aang**

* * *

**100 AG: Spring**

"Do you think orange or ginger would be a better base, Genji?"

Genji snapped suddenly out of a daydream. She stared at her mother, trying to figure out what exactly she was asking. Her mother gave Genji a perplexed look when she didn't respond right away.

" _Genji?_ " She repeated. "Ginger or orange?"

She held up one of each. Genji looked back and forth between her choices, still confused. Then, she remembered what they were doing. They were in the market looking for ingredients for Fire Flan.

"Oh." She said quietly. "Um..."

It was their monthly market trip, their first outing of the new year. Her mother had decided that she was going to bake Fire Flan. It was a delicious treat that perfectly melded sweet and spicy into one dish. It had once been Daiyu's favorite thing to bake; it had also been her husband's favorite. Daiyu hadn't baked it since they'd left the colony. She hadn't baked much of anything for the past nine years.

"Erm...ginger?" Genji suggested, not too convinced of her choice.

Her mother weighed the two produce in her hands. She considered the ginger for a moment, holding it high into the air, then scowled.

"But that'll make the flan too spicy." She muttered, turning it over. After a moment, she put the vegetable back. "Orange will be better. It'll contrast nicely with the spices."

_Then why'd you even ask?_ Genji thought bitterly.

A few months earlier, she might've been excited to see her mother baking again, especially Fire Flan. She could still remember the days when she would help her mother gather the ingredients from their garden and the smile her father would wear once he caught a whiff of what they were making.

However, those days were long gone, and the memories were starting to fade. Genji could barely even remember her father's face. The thought of her mother finally baking Fire Flan again brought her no real comfort. It was a shallow gesture.

Genji crossed her arms and cast her eyes aside, once again becoming lost in thought. Ever since she'd learned of the Avatar's return, she'd felt her relationship with her mother slowly deteriorate. Their fights had grown more constant, with Genji trying to convince her that his return was a good omen and her mother insisting that it meant their doom. With every new bit of information that Genji brought home, the more irate her mother became. It had culminated in her mother threatening to cut out the tongues of the women whose gossip Genji was listening to. She had picked up a knife, fully intending to follow through, and Genji had rushed in to stop her. When she had tried to take the knife from her, she had accidentally sliced her upper arm.

The cut had been surface level and likely wouldn't scar, but it was enough. Her mother, once again ashamed of what she'd done, had sunk into a depressive episode. Genji had had to look after her every need while she sulked and apologized profusely. A week later, once she'd recovered from her shame, she'd announced that she was making Fire Flan as an apology. Genji had feigned excitement because it was another chance to learn more about the Avatar. She otherwise had no appetite for her mother's apology.

Glancing towards the sweet cart, where her informants usually were, Genji saw with dismay that no one was there. The old woman who ran the cart, Chow, must have taken the day off. Looking around the marketplace, Genji couldn't see any of the other women who usually came to gossip at Chow's cart. That wasn't so unusual, as they probably were just at home with their families, but it was disappointing. Genji had been hoping to hear something new.

"Stop that." Her mother whispered harshly. "We're not here so you can listen to those _busybodies_."

Genji abandoned her search with a sigh and looked back at her mother. She was glaring at her unhappily, one hand on her hip. Genji said nothing and just stared back at her, expressionless. There wasn't anything she _could_ say. She just hoped she wasn't contemplating senseless murder again.

Her mother shook her head and huffed.

"The _nerve_ of those women, filling my child's head with _nonsense_." She muttered under her breath before quickly moving on to the next vendor.

Apparently, she was in a much more stable mood than she had been some nights ago. For a moment, Genji was glad that the women hadn't come to town that day. It might've tipped her mother back into one of her dark moods.

They continued shopping for a few moments, before an odd bellow interrupted their day. The entire village lifted their heads at the sound of it and glanced around in bewilderment. Genji gazed up towards the sky, where the noise had seemed to come from. However, she didn't see anything but fluffy clouds drifting peacefully on by. She peered at her mother, and saw she was nervously eyeing the clouds.

"It was probably something from the swamp." Genji said. "Maybe it was a Screecher Bird. You know how loud _they_ can be."

Her mother seemed unconvinced, but after noticing the villagers lose interest, she tore her eyes from the sky. Genji cut one last glance up herself, before deciding it really must've been a Screecher. She'd heard weirder noises from them, after all.

They drifted through the market, filling Daiyu's hemp bag with various products. Shortly after they'd found the last of their supplies, three strangers walked into the market.

Daiyu, ever the observant one, was the first to notice. She saw the shopkeeper raise a suspicious brow and quickly followed his line of sight towards the trio. Seeing their reactions, Genji curiously turned her head.

The trio consisted of a teenage boy that looked to be her age, if not a little older, a slightly younger girl, and a child. The older pair had dark skin and darker hair and wore furs and leather that had been dyed blue. They were easily recognizable as members of the Water Tribe, even to Genji, who'd only ever heard vague descriptions. The child, though, wore an orange shawl that hung over a long yellow shirt that draped over his legs. It was unlike anything Genji had ever seen before. Earth or Fire Nation, maybe? They were the only nations she knew that used yellow or orange in their clothes, although never as a dominant color.

Daiyu eyed them warily, watching as they walked to the nearest food cart. Strangers weren't rare, but they were definitely uncommon. Moreover, they usually took the side-path that ran from the Omashu road into their town . The strangers, however, had come in from the marshy woods. Daiyu instantly mistrusted them.

She grabbed Genji by her elbow and pulled her close.

"Careful," she whispered, "they could be Fire Nation spies."

Genji gave her mother a dubious look. "In Water Tribe clothes? They're probably just travelers, mom."

Daiyu pursed her lips tight and narrowed her eyes. The trio were talking amongst themselves as they went about their business. They didn't so much as glance Daiyu and Genji's way, but Daiyu remained unshaken in her belief that they were spies. Her grip tightened on Genji's arm, and she started to tug her away.

"Let's go." She said tersely. "We've got everything we need."

Quietly, Genji began to follow her. It would be much easier to follow her home than to try to convince her of the strangers' innocence. Moreover, with Chow and the other women gone, there was no reason for her to stay. Even the Earthbenders that she liked to watch were off doing other things. Letting out a muted groan, Genji threw a fleeting glance over her shoulder. As she did, the child in the strange yellow clothes turned his head and fortuitously locked eyes with her.

Genji froze and dug her heels into the ground, stopping her mother in her tracks. From underneath a clumsily fitting straw hat, Genji could see the hint of a bald head that sported a blue arrow tattoo. It pointed down at a button nose and storm cloud eyes that matched her own.

"Wait..." She gasped. "Blue tattoos...and a bald head..."

Daiyu gave a heaving breath, frustrated that Genji had become distracted. She pulled at her arm, glaring at the group. The young boy, who had smiled pleasantly at Genji, saw Daiyu's glare and nervously turned away.

"Let's _go,_ Genji." Her mother urged. "I don't _trust_ those people."

Genji broke into an ear-to-ear smile as she realized who exactly she was looking at. He was much shorter and a few years younger than she'd imagined, but he otherwise matched the women's description to a tee.

"It's the _Avatar!_ " She cried out breathlessly.

She could hardly believe that he was standing there, in her village. Her heart beat faster than an eel hound could run. There was another airbender in the world, and he was right in front of her! What absolute _providence_ that her mother had decided to bake Fire Flan that day! She'd be sure to thank the spirits in her prayer that night.

Daiyu had visibly stiffened and was staring at the group with stiffly pursed lips and hard eyes. Daiyu eyed the boy in question, as if trying to decide for herself if it was really true. Her eyes wandered down to his hands, where the tips of blue arrows peeked out from underneath his sleeves. Her expression grew tighter, and angrier. She continued to study the boy for a moment, and he threw a wayward glance her way before hurriedly saying something to his Water Tribe companions.

When they too turned to give Daiyu a suspicious look, her head snapped back towards Genji.

"No, there's no way." She said firmly. "The Avatar is _dead,_ Genji. It's the Fire Nation trying to trick us."

Genji felt a stubbornness rise within her, and she scrunched her face up at her mother. She gently removed her hand from her arm.

"No," she insisted, "that _has_ to be him. You saw the tattoos, didn't you? Blue tattoos, just like an airbender."

Genji threw a desperate glance his way. She wanted just to talk to him, to know for sure that he existed and was real. She wanted to have hope not only for herself, but for the world that he'd returned. Most of all, she wanted to ask him about the airbenders, if he'd known them at all. Genji bit the inside of her cheek, gnawing anxiously at it while she contemplated what to do. She wanted her mother to believe her, but she also worried about what she'd do if she did. Thinking she'd abandon her paranoia and rejoice was foolish, but if she'd at least let her _talk_ to him...

Suddenly, Genji felt her mother brush past her and she jolted out of her thoughts. Her eyes widened in alarm as she watched her sternly march their direction. The blood drained from Genji's face, and she grabbed her by the sleeve to try and hold her back.

"Wait! No! What are you-?"

Her mother tugged her sleeve away.

"Squashing this silly idea that you have in your head. There is _no_ Avatar, and you risk our lives everyday that you believe these rumors!" She shook her head, and Genji could see pangs of what looked to be disappointment in her eyes. "I've done too much to protect you, I won't lose you now."

Genji drew back.

"Lose me...?" Her brows creased in confusion. Was she implying that the Avatar was going to hurt her? She really must've lost her mind if that was the case.

Her mother failed to clarify as she walked briskly towards the trio. At her approach, the oldest of the three, the Water Tribe boy, nudged his friends and said something that was inaudible to Genji. They looked up and exchanged wary glances. Nervous, Genji trotted after her mother. She wasn't at all sure what she meant to do or say, but knowing how her mother was towards strangers, it wasn't likely to be very friendly.

Daiyu stopped in front of the oddly dressed boy and crossed her arms, looking gravely down at him. He shifted nervously under her gaze, confused by the pecularialy hostile stranger.

"Pardon me," She nearly barked out, the roughness of her tone clumsily juxtaposing her polite words. "But my daughter has been overhearing some... _troublesome_ -"

They all raised an eyebrow at troublesome.

"-rumors and she believes that you're the _Avatar_. Tell her that's impossible."

Three sets of eyes landed on Genji, and she withered away under their collective stare. She could've blown away with the wind at that moment, she was so devastated. She had daydreamed of meeting the Avatar for months now, and this was nothing like she'd pictured. In her dreams, she'd approached him fearlessly and proudly announced that she, too, was an airbender. He'd celebrated and embraced her completely, just as happy as she was to meet another airbender. None of her daydreaming had included the possibility that her mother would aggressively demand the Avatar to explain his _nonexistence_ to her.

Genji hung her head, unable to look any of them in the eye. Her throat tightened and she fidgeted with the hems of her gloves to distract herself.

"Oh...well..." She heard one of them say, probably the young monk by the youthful, boyish sound of it. For a moment, the hesitation in his voice made her doubt her own certainty in his identity. Maybe, in her desperation, she'd projected onto this young stranger and he wasn't the Avatar at all. Maybe he wasn't even an airbender.

"It's not a rumor, I really _am_ the Avatar."

All doubt, as short-lived as it'd been, fled from her mind. Genji's head bobbed back up and she stared at him in awe. It really was him! Picking nervously at the lint in between her fingers, Genji waited for her mother's reaction.

Daiyu glanced over the child with uncertainty, clearly not believing him. Before she could express her doubt, however, the boy perked up at the chance to prove himself.

"No, really, I am!" He exclaimed, then reached underneath his sash to retrieve three marbles. "I can prove it, watch!"

He held his hands up as if he was holding a block between them and the marbles spun at high speed in the space between his palms.

"See? Airbending!" He grinned, then stopped spinning the marbles and carefully tucked them back into his sash. Then, he waved his hands in a fluid motion and a stream of water leapt from a nearby puddle and began circling his entire body. He beamed proudly. "And waterbending!"

Genji's heart leapt into her throat to see him airbend, and it took everything she had not to reveal herself to him right there and then.

Daiyu's anger switched to dumbfounded shock for just a moment. There was a moment of hesitation as she processed the fact that she had, indeed, been wrong. She glanced back at Genji, and saw the way she watched the boy move with a slight twitch in her fingers. Sensing her mother's eyes on her, Genji quickly tucked her hands behind her and tried to look as innocent as possible. Her round gray eyes, the largest and most vulnerable Daiyu had ever seen, stared up at her as if to say I wasn't wrong. Something about looking into those stormy pools, the same eyes as her deceased ancestors and long-gone father and Meemaw, made Daiyu irrationally angry. Somewhere, hidden far behind that peaceful gray, Daiyu could see violent flames burning. Daiyu clenched her jaw and snapped her head back at the Avatar.

"Is that anything to be proud of, you _traitor?_ " She snarled, much to the surprise of everyone. "You abandoned your people and let them die horribly, and now, 100 years later, you suddenly decide to come back? You're _far_ too late!"

Her words hit the boy like a boulder and he dropped his hands, the water splashing down around him. Pain filled his wide eyes and he took a careful step backwards. His friends immediately jumped to his aid, the young Water Tribe girl stepping in front of him as if to protect him. She glared up at Daiyu and put her hands on her hips.

"Hey, you can't talk to him like that!" She said and whipped her finger into Daiyu's face. "Aang didn't let anyone die! It wasn't his fault that he disappeared!"

"Yeah!" The Water Tribe boy quickly backed her up, standing with his arms crossed. "Aang didn't know what the Fire Nation was going to do, he was just a kid!"

"Tell that to all the Airbenders that died waiting for him to save them!" Daiyu slapped the girl's hand out of her face and took a menacing step towards the Avatar, Aang. His eyes bugged out of his head in fear and he backed up into the cart behind him. Genji panicked and grabbed her mom's arm to hold her back.

"Mom, _stop!_ " She cried, trying to pull her away from the terrified child. "Leave him alone!"

Daiyu ignored her and glowered down at the boy, who stared up at her in alarm.

"All those Air Nation children clutching their mother's skirts while they watched their families be slaughtered, praying for their Avatar to come in their time of need. Where were _you?_ " She raged, eyes nearly bloodshot from the anger that burned in her veins. "When the survivors managed to flee only to be lulled into Fire Nation traps and _murdered_ , where were _you?_ If you couldn't be there for your own people, how do you expect to save _anyone?_ You _can't_ and you _won't!_ You've been stupid enough to let the Fire Nation know you're back and now they're going to kill you just like they did your people, and you know what? You deserve it! You deserve to suffer like they did!"

Daiyu's voice gradually grew louder and louder, and passing villagers threw concerned looks their way as she continued to harass the young Avatar. She harshly poked him in the chest with every inflammatory word she spat at him, and he winced each time. Horrified to see her mother act in such a way Genji found all the strength she had and ripped her away from the boy. She threw her mother back and rushed to stand between her and Aang.

**"MOTHER, _STOP!_ "** She screamed. "It's not his fault! For Spirits' sakes, he's just a little _kid!"_

Daiyu stumbled backwards and fell onto her back with a dusty thud. She looked up at Genji with wide eyes, only to have her daughter cast a look of pure shame down at her. She curled her fingers into the dust and grinded her teeth, tasting dirt on her tongue.

Behind Genji, the Avatar's friends had rushed to his side and were making sure he was ok. When he sullenly assured them that he was fine, they glared over at Daiyu.

"What's wrong with you?!" Shouted the Water Tribe girl, her eyes burning with rage. "Aang's saved so many people already, you have no idea what he's been through!"

Genji turned away from her mother, unable to look her in the eyes. She picked up their bag that Daiyu had dropped when she'd fallen. Shifting through its contents, she picked out the oranges that her mother had chosen for their flan. She looked guiltily up at the trio and offered them with a bow.

"I'm so very sorry for my mother." She said. "Please, take these as an apology."

Daiyu jumped to her feet to see Genji giving away their oranges. She quickly grabbed the bag and oranges from her before any of them could make a move to recieve her apology. She thrusted them back into the bag. Then, she stepped between Genji and the group, waving an angry finger at them.

"You'd do better to hide, Avatar, and not rope anyone into your foolish games." She pointed her finger at the Water Tribe pair. "And if you two have any sense or value for your lives, you'll go back home to your families and not endanger yourself with this selfish _coward!_ "

They bristled with anger, but before they could counter her, Daiyu had snatched Genji's wrist and begun dragging her away. Genji resisted at first, not wanting to leave the Avatar and his friends with such a sour impression of her thanks to her mother. She threw a desperate glance behind her, only to see the Avatar hanging his head and avoiding watching them leave.

"Yeah, go ahead and say that as you run away! We know who the real coward is, coward!" Shouted the oldest of the group. He and the girl shot another justified glare at Genji and Daiyu before turning to comfort their despondent friend.

There was no apologizing for what her mother had said, Genji realized. They very likely didn't want to see her ever again after dealing with her mother.

Genji let her wrist go limp in her mother's hand as she reluctantly submitted to being dragged back home. Her first and only time meeting another airbender, and he very likely hated her now. And there was no telling how their chance encounter had truly affected her mother. What exactly was her next move? Knowing her, it was going to be something drastic and overbearing. Genji had no doubt that something was about to change in their lives, and that it wasn't going to be pleasant.

As they rushed home, her mother ranted on and on about the Avatar and how he'd failed his people and the world. Genji couldn't listen to any of it. Her focus remained on the slowly vanishing village, watching with sad eyes as the Avatar disappeared from her sight forever. The cut on her arm burned as she wondered what might've happened if she had just shown him that she too was an airbender. If she'd only had the courage to defy her mother fully.

* * *

The moment that they returned home, Genji's mother practically threw her into her room. Genji landed with a small gasp on her futon, and propped herself up on her forearms to throw a dirty look her mother's way. She was met with only fury as her mother carelessly threw their bag of freshly bought ingredients to the side. There would be no Fire Flan that night, it seemed.

"Just _what_ were you thinking of doing back there?!" Her mother demanded, looming over Genji like a wall of flame. Her emerald eyes burned brighter than any fire Genji had ever seen before, and for a second she doubted that her mother only had Earth and Air ancestry. With a temper like hers, there was sure to be Fire Nation somewhere in the mix.

"I'm not the one who just harassed a literal _child!_ " Genji shouted back, pushing herself back onto her feet. "The way you get angry at me is _fine,_ I'm _used_ to it, but you can't act like that towards strangers! _Especially_ not when that stranger is the _Avatar!_ "

" _You_ were going to _reveal_ yourself!" The same finger that had jabbed the Avatar now poked Genji in the chest, pushing her back an inch. "I saw the way you were looking at him, the way you held your hands; you were thinking about airbending in front of _everybody!_ "

Her mother threw up her hands in exasperation and began fuming down at Genji.

"Do you have _any_ idea what would've happened? Have you _forgotten_ what the Fire Nation did to Meemaw's family? What they'll do to _you?!_ "

" _I don't care!_ " Genji screamed at the top of her lungs, so loud that the birds flew from the trees outside. Daiyu was forced to clasp her hands over her ears and back away from Genji in order not to burst her own eardrums. "I'm _tired_ of living in fear! I'm _tired_ of living half a life! All I wanted was to speak with the only other airbender in the entire _world!_ I just wanted to know I wasn't alone! That we don't have to live like _this!_ "

She threw her arms out wide, and when she did her fingers grazed her bedroom walls.

"I want to know that there's _hope_ for the world, that the war will end and we won't have to hide anymore! We're the _last_ of our kind, mom! We can't hide from each other like this!"

There was a wetness on Genji's cheek and she roughly wiped at it before realizing that she was crying. She tried to steady her breath so as not to let her voice waver, and looked at her mother with pleading eyes.

"Please," She begged, "I hate seeing you like this. I just want to have hope for _us_. That we can live as a normal _family_ again. Not as self-made _prisoners_ in this swamp."

Genji searched her mother's face, wanting to find any shred of the soft-hearted woman who would drop to her knees and beg for forgiveness for making her cry. That woman, however, did not seem to be the mother she was dealing with at the moment. All she could find in her stress-aged face was contempt and resentment. She did not seem at all moved by Genji's weeping pleas, but only angry that she'd dared to admit she wasn't willing to live in hiding any longer.

Daiyu's face darkened.

"So..." She said in a low voice. "You were planning to leave with him then? Is that it?"

Genji was dumbfounded by the conclusion that her mother had jumped to. She sniffled and dried her eyes, unsure for a moment if she'd heard her correctly.

"What?"

Her mother crossed her arms in a very sure-of-herself manner. She glared at the Northmost wall, in the general direction of the village and (ultimately) the Avatar.

"That's it then." She stated very matter-of-factly. "You were going to run off with the Avatar and live this dangerous life and throw away everything I've done to keep you _safe._ "

As if on cue, Genji felt a twinge of pain in her arm. Her mind went numb as she tried to process the insane jump in logic her mother had just made. She hadn't once thought about leaving with the Avatar, at least not without her mother. Even in her wildest dreams, she had only wanted to know she wasn't alone. That would have been enough for her, knowing that there was another airbender and she and her mother could come out of hiding. It almost hurt to think that the only explanation her mother could come up with, despite all the years Genji'd spent dutifully caring for her whenever she fell into one of her emotional spells, was that she meant to abandon her.

Baffled, Genji could barely utter a word. Her mother, misunderstanding her silence, took it as a confession. She shook her head and scrunched up her face to hold back wounded tears.

"I can't risk that, Genji." She explained with a slightly softer tone. "I can't risk losing you. I _love_ you."

As she said this, she reached out and gingerly cupped Genji's cheeks, regaining her tender persona. Genji was frozen stiff and could do nothing to thwart the movement.

"I love you too much to watch you let yourself be _killed_."

Daiyu wiped at a stray tear on Genji's cheek, then drew back. With a sniffle, she reached into her pocket and produced a key. At the sight of it, Genji snapped out of her shock.

"I'm not letting him take you from me, Genji." She walked to the door and kicked the produce bag out of her way. The oranges were probably bruised beyond usage now.

Daiyu threw a doleful look at Genji as she began to close the door. "I won't lose you too. I have to do whatever it takes to _protect_ you."

"Wait, mom-" Genji suddenly realized what her mother was doing and what the key belonged to. Her heart thudded in her chest.

Her mother shut the door and Genji heard the key slide into the lock. Genji tore across the room and began to bang on the door.

"You can't do this, mom! I never said I was going to leave with him! I just wanted to talk to him!"

"Yes..." Her mother said behind the now locked door. "So you could reveal yourself. I can't let that happen either, Genji. You'll get hurt."

Genji was aghast at first, not wanting to believe that her mother would do this to her. A quick glance at her gloves and bandaged arm, however, sorely reminded her that her mother was _very_ capable of it. Infuriated, Genji pounded harder on the door.

"Let me out!" She shouted. "You can't lock me up like this! Please! I just wanted what was best for us!"

"So do I, Genji! You think I _like_ having to do this? I hate it! But I wouldn't have to do it if I could trust that you wouldn't do something that would get you killed!"

She was silent for a moment while Genji continued to pound on the door, demanding to be released. She held the key up to her heart, wincing as she listened to her daughter scream and beg to be released, then dropped the key into her pocket.

"I'll let you out once I know the Avatar is far away from here. You'll be safe then."

Genji listened as her mother's footsteps faded away, leaving her without another word. She roughly rattled the doorknob, knowing it wouldn't open but trying anyways before again crying out. She stepped back and grabbed at her hair, trying to make sense of everything that had just happened. She hadn't once thought about running away from her mother, she could never do that to her. It wasn't fair that she'd assume that simply because she refused to believe that everything and everyone was out to get them. How could her mother put words in her mouth like that?

Genji paced her room, the tiny space forcing her to stomp over her futon every third step. She huffed as she did, fuming over the way her mother was acting. She glared at the door and considered, for a moment, blowing it off its hinges. It would've been relatively easy to do. However, that only would've made her mother angry, and despite how enraged Genji was at her, she knew better than to poke the proverbial bear. Still, she couldn't stand to stay locked away in her room, and the anger inside of her begged to be released somehow. The Fire Nation in her demanded to be unleashed in a bending fury.

Breathing heavily, Genji glanced out the sole window in her room. It wasn't so much a window as a small, rectangular gap in the earthen wall, barely wide enough to let her squeeze her arm through. But she could work with it. Fiddling with the rim, Genji found that it was quite loose and barely needed any wiggling before it crumbled in her hand. She threw one last glare at her door before coming to her final decision.

She was going to sneak out to her spot in the swamp for a little while and airbend out her frustration. Just for an hour or two, and then she would be back. It was her way of rebelling from her overbearing mother. Moreover, she needed time away from her, to collect her thoughts.

Sucking in her breath, Genji pushed up on her toes to lift her face to the level of her window. Quietly, she blew out a strong, yet silent, stream of wind along the edges. The dirt easily wore away, first in thin dust clouds and then in larger chunks that tumbled to the ground outside. After a few more large breaths, Genji had worn out a jagged exit large enough for her to squeeze through. She fell back onto her feet and crouched down, then jumped up with a boost of air to push her upper body through the opening. Then, with some light wiggling and a cushion of air underneath her, she dropped soundlessly to the ground.

The air was cool around her, and Genji knew that that meant nightfall was only a few short hours away. She made a mental promise that she would be back before the sun had fully set, and once she was sure her mother's head had cleared she'd try to talk to her again. She might listen, in a better mood.

Without so much as a glance behind her shoulder, she tore off into the marsh, feeling the wind blow against her. If she'd have none that she wasn't going to return to that hut or her mother ever again, she might've hesitated and looked back, at least once. Just to say goodbye.

* * *

Genji's airbending spot was a small grove of short, stubby aspen trees a mile or two southeast of her and Keemo's log. She'd been careful to choose what she deemed to be a safe distance from Keemo, not wanting to have him see her. He was too gentle of a person for her to allow him to become entangled in her secret. If anything were to happen to him because she'd been caught by the wrong person, she couldn't have lived with herself.

Once she was certain that she was alone, Genji reached into her left boot and pulled out a hair pin. Then she grabbed the butt of her hair, which was styled into a low-hanging bun, and twisted the bulb so that it folded over itself repeatedly until it reached the back of her head. Then she slid the hair pin into place and tucked the loose strands of hair that framed her face behind her ears. She'd learned from her first experience airbending in the swamp to keep her hair up, or risk snagging it on twigs.

Letting out a low breath, Genji wasted no more time and began darting around her practice grounds. She'd set it up long ago with various stones and large planks of bark she'd ripped off of dead trees, scattered all over the grove. They were her targets, and as she spun about, leaping over sunken bits of ground where marsh water had seeped in, she blasted them with powerful gusts of air. With her palm flat, she circled her wrist until a small funnel of air began encasing her arm. Then, she spun around and pointed her fingertips at the sturdiest plank, which was practically the size of a full log. The funnel swirled right into its center, and it fell into two pieces with a satisfying crack.

However, it wasn't enough. Genji needed more; she needed to do something bigger to properly express all of the pent up frustration she had. She surveyed her grove with a careful eye, and spotted a somewhat smaller aspen wedged between two of its sturdier brethren. It was dead, Genji could tell by the flakiness of its bark and the barrenness of its leaves. Its roots were still stubbornly holding on to the soil, and they had a good grip too. Knocking it over would be the perfect challenge.

Genji floated down to her feet from a high jump and turned to face it. She assumed a wide-leg stance and began gyrating her arms, slowly creating a ball of high-powered air. She leaned back and forth on her heels as she prepared to throw it, feeling the currents whisk faster and faster under her fingers. She moved her arms faster, until she finally felt that it was strong enough to demolish the snag where it stood. Swaying back on her heels, she brought her arms back, before thrusting her open palms out to shoot the ball of compressed air at her target.

She had, however, underestimated just how powerful her ball of air had been. The moment it made contact, the tree was immediately ripped from the ground and unceremoniously tossed a good few meters ahead. It stopped only when it crashed into the thick trunk of another tree. The sound of wood splintering into thousands of pieces echoed for what seemed like miles, and Genji immediately felt her stomach sink.

_Someone_ definitely _heard that._

Her fears were quickly confirmed by a loud gasp that came from above her. Genji nearly jumped out of her skin as she spun around and defensively swiped at the air, sending strokes of wind hurling up into the canopy.

"Whoa!" Came a boyish voice, and a flash of yellow jumped swiftly out of the way. A bald, tattooed head turned to watch the air slice through the compact leaves, letting three curved beams of light shine down on them. Genji's heart stopped as the boy her mother had humiliated just hours before looked down at her with wide eyes.

Realization struck him and he broke into the widest grin Genji had ever seen, his eyes positively sparkling with excitement.

"You're an _airbender!_ " He exclaimed.

Something overtook Genji, and without much thought, she booked it.

"Hey, wait!" The Avatar called after her. "Don't be afraid!"

Genji ran like she'd never ran before, sweat beading on her forehead and her heart pounding in her ears. Where had he come from, and how long had he been watching her? Surely, it couldn't have been long, if he'd only realized her abilities when she'd bended straight at him. Genji suddenly stopped and stood still as she realized what she'd just done. She'd bended at the Avatar! What if she'd made contact and hurt him? What if she'd caught him off guard and he'd fallen and died? Or, what if it had been anyone else but him, and she'd revealed herself to somebody who would've reported her? Genji could hear her mother's voice now, harshly scolding her being so stupid and reckless. For once, she had to agree full heartedly.

Suddenly, there came the sound of branches breaking above her and the Avatar dropped not two feet in front of her. He was giving her a crooked grin that instantly reminded her of Keemo, although there was a distinct lack of a lucky snaggletooth. Genji drew back and cursed for letting herself become overwhelmed and stop running. Although, now that she had a slight moment of clarity, she wasn't sure why she'd exactly begun running in the first place. Hadn't she wanted to meet him and reveal herself, like her mother had said?

"You don't have to be afraid of me, I promise!" He announced, keeping his lopsided smile. His smile faltered for a moment and he blinked once he got a good look at her face. His eyebrows practically launched off the top of his head once he recognized her, and he stared in near disbelief.

"Hey, you're that girl from the village!"

If she didn't have a reason to run before, her embarrassment at him recognizing her from earlier certainly gave her one now. Flushing, Genji placed her hands on the boy's shoulders and leap-frogged over his head, much to his surprise. From there she darted off, weaving through the tightly packed trees in the hope that she'd lose him. What she forgot, however, was that he too was an airbender and was just as agile than her, if not more so.

As she catapulted herself from the tree roots up into the canopy, the Avatar easily followed suit and leapt up into the branches.

"Come back!" He called after her. "I'm an airbender, just like you! We're the last of our kind, _please_ , let me talk to you!"

Even from a distance (as she'd gotten a pretty good head start), Genji could hear the desperation in his voice. But, somehow, she couldn't stop running. Why was that? Hadn't she said she wanted the same exact thing some moments earlier? Hadn't she been dreaming of this moment for months, of meeting the Avatar and standing with him in solidarity? Why then, could her legs not stop leaping from tree branch to tree branch, and why did her heart keep screaming keep moving in her ear? What was she afraid of?

" _Please!_ " He cried. "I need to know that I'm not alone!"

Genji winced at hearing the sorrowful strain in his voice, and she halted on a tree branch. Her hideaway was just below her, the halfway marker between her and home. She hesitated and peered down at it, knowing it wasn't too far of a drop for her to make. Biting her lip, Genji decided against running and looked back at the Avatar. He had stopped on the tree across from her, not so much as a drop of sweat on his brow from their short-lived chase.

"You have to understand." He pleaded. "I thought my people were all gone. When I found Monk Gyatso at the Southern Air Temple and saw what the Fire Nation had done..."

He trailed off and clenched his eyes shut, obviously pained by the memory.

"...I thought it was true that I was the last airbender. But..." He lifted his head and made eye contact with Genji. "Now I've met you, and I might not be."

Genji hung her head, ashamed for having run away from him. It was bad enough that her mother had verbally assaulted him that morning, did she have to drive the nail further into his hurt by denying him the knowledge that he wasn't alone? He wanted the same thing she did.

"I..." She stammered, unable to look him in the eyes. From the very palpable tension in the air, she knew he was eagerly waiting for her to confirm what they already knew. Taking a deep breath, Genji forced herself to look him in the eyes, once again allowing gray to meet gray.

"It's true. I...I'm an airbender...just like you." She felt a lightness in her chest to see his face brighten, but somehow she couldn't share his elation and she couldn't understand why. She merely averted her eyes again.

Missing her hesitation, the Avatar leapt into the air, unable to withhold his joy.

"I knew it! I knew I couldn't be the last one! This is amazing!" He cried out happily. In his excitement, he vaulted himself from his branch to hers.

"This means there are others, right?" He beamed, eyes wide at the thought of there being not two, but possibly several more airbenders in the world. "Is your mother one too? Is that why she was mad at me, why she said I abandoned our people?"

Despite the warmth that the words our people brought Genji, her face fell to hear him ask if there were more airbenders. She shook her head sadly and watched his smile drop.

"No...it's just me." She explained. "My great grandmother was an airbender that survived the genocide...I inherited my abilities from her. She was the last airbender before I was born...and before you came back."

"Oh..." The boy said sullenly, disappointed that there wasn't a secret tribe of his people thriving somewhere in the world. He seemed lost in thought for a moment, before raising an eyebrow at Genji.

"Why did you run if you knew I was an airbender too?" He asked.

Genji stammered, not quite knowing the answer herself. She fiddled with her gloves as she tried to come up with an answer, both for him and herself.

"I'm..." She looked at him and then in the direction of the village and her mother. She thought for a moment, remembering how her first thought when she'd heard him gasp was that he'd been a villager who was going to report her. The fear that had filled her veins at the thought had been cold and consuming.

"I'm not supposed...to be airbending." She hesitantly admitted. "My mother would get mad at me if she caught me...so I do it in secret where no one can see me."

"Did you teach yourself?"

Genji nodded and the Avatar seemed impressed.

"That's pretty good! Your form could use some work though."

It felt good to be praised by him. If anyone knew what good airbending was, it had to be him. She shuffled her foot when he mentioned her form.

"I haven't exactly had anyone to teach me." She gently reminded him.

All she knew about her form was to keep a wide-legged stance. She'd learned that from her father, who had once told her that stance meant everything. However, he had been trying to teach her how to firebend. Firebending stances didn't quite translate to airbending, which she knew from instinct was less harsh and lighter on the feet.

Instinct, however, only went so far as a teacher.

An idea seemed to come to the young avatar (what was his name again? Ong?) and he grinned wildly.

"Come with me!" He exclaimed.

Genji hadn't been expecting him to say that, and she leaned back in shock. When she did, however, the back of her foot slipped on the branch and she began teetering over the edge. She nearly fell backwards, but quickly righted herself with a helpful push of air.

" _What?_ "

"Come with me!" He repeated, as if she'd merely misheard him and not simply reacted out of disbelief. "I can teach you airbending when I'm not busy doing avatar stuff!"

The world was spinning under Genji's feet and she risked falling backwards into the swamp again. She put a steadying hand on the trunk. She hadn't quite been ready to receive the offer of a lifetime so high up. There was a bundle of several different emotions lodged in her throat, none of it positive. It made Genji feel like she was about to throw up.

Why wasn't she ecstatic to hear the Avatar ask her to join him? Why wasn't she jumping at the bit to learn airbending from him? Wasn't this everything she'd ever wanted?

Except, she realized with a glance towards home, it wasn't.

"I...I can't." She stammered guiltily.

Now it was the Avatar's turn to reel back in shock. He had clearly been hoping for a much different answer, and was almost devastated to hear her response. It hurt to see the disappointment in his eyes, so Genji looked away for the umpteenth time.

"Why not?"

"I can't leave my mom." She explained under her breath. "I'm all she has left. And..."

She hesitated, before stumbling across the answer to all the questions she'd been asking herself that night.

"And I'm afraid."

In fact, she was more than afraid, Genji was petrified. Even though she yearned to live freely as who she was, the thought of what the Fire Nation would do if they found out loomed over her like a dark cloud. It was inescapable. Her entire life she'd been raised to understand them to be an immediate threat to her life if she ever outed herself as an airbender. Despite her rebellion and secret practice, she was scared to discover just how real that threat was.

Not even a chance encounter with the avatar could shake that fear from her bones. Or, at least, that's how she felt in that terrifying moment.

"I'm sorry."

With tears in her eyes as she realized this awful truth about herself, feeling guilty at having to force the avatar to once again live as the last airbender, Genji leapt down from the branch.

"Wait!" The Avatar cried out after her.

"Wait, please!" He bounded down onto the giant log to follow her. "Don't go! I can't be the only airbender again, and I don't think you want to be alone anymore either! Please, come with me!"

Genji kept going. She hated herself for running, she hated that it was the only thing she knew how to do. She and her mother had run away from the colony, had run away from their ancestors, and Genji had run away from her mother multiple times and from her promise to Meemaw. And now, worst of all, she was running from the one thing she'd dreamed of for so long. A chance to live as the person she was meant to be. A chance to reconnect with the culture she'd never known.

Her surroundings blurred away as she ran, and in her emotional daze, Genji didn't realize that she'd overshot and was not sprinting home. Instead of jumping off the southern end of her log, she'd launched herself nothwards, and was running further into the swamp. The Avatar's voice faded away behind her, and she ran until something reached out from the swamp and caught her in its grips.


	6. Keemo

**Keemo**

* * *

**100 AG: Spring**

The arms around Genji were strong, and they wrapped around her in such a way that both of her arms were trapped against her chest. She couldn't move in any way that would've allowed her to bend.

She thrashed in her captor's grip, feeling panic rise in her chest.

"Let me go!" She shrieked. She kicked wildly and struggled to break free, without throwing so much of a glance towards who'd grabbed her. It had to be a Fire Nation soldier, who'd been spying on her and now meant to drag her back to his general. What a fine prize she'd make, the second to last airbender. What perfect bait to lure the Avatar into Fire Nation clutches.

"I won't go with you!" Genji continued to squirm and scream, trying to at least free her arms so she could throw her attacker back against a tree with a whirlwind. Her captor released her only to grab her by the wrists and spin her around gently to face him. Genji was baffled to finally see his face and realize that it was Keemo.

"Genji, relax! I ain't gonna hurtcha!" Keemo said, and smiled to prove his innocence. "I jus' needed ya to stop runnin'!"

Cool relief flooded over her that it was him and not a Fire Nation soldier. She felt herself relax. As she looked around herself, she realized that she'd ran much farther into the swamp than she'd been intending. She was a good five miles away from her hideaway, and certainly nowhere near her home. In fact, she was probably right outside of Keemo's tribe. He must've seen her running by and stepped in to stop her. She never went this far into the swamp, after all.

Despite her relief at seeing him and not a Fire Nation soldier, Genji angrily ripped one of her hands out of his grip and banged it against his chest.

"You _asshole!_ You scared me half to _death!_ Let me go!"

Keemo obliged and released her other hand without hesitation. He withstood her pounding fists on his bare chest without so much as a wince, and smiled apologetically down at her.

"Sorry," He said. "I din't mean to, ya just woulda kept going if I hadn't stopped ya."

Genji threw a few more colorful words and soft-fisted punches his way, and he took them without so much as a wince. Worn out from her running and all of the excitement of her day, Genji dropped her fists and pressed her head against Keemo. The Spirits seemed to enjoy toying with her that day, batting her this way and that and watching her suffer through each new challenge they threw at her. What did they want out of her? What did she want out of herself? Tears almost threatened to spill down her cheeks, but Genji gave a single forced sniff and fought them back.

"What are you even doing here." She mumbled into his chest, making it more of a statement than a question.

She didn't have to look up to know that Keemo was giving her a good-natured smirk.

"I live here, I should be asking what _yer_ doin' out here!" A chuckle rumbled up from deep inside his chest, and Genji could feel it gently shake her head. It helped her forget, for a moment, everything that had happened.

Sadly, it was a short-lived moment. With an exhausted sigh, Genji lifted her head and looked solemnly behind her. The Avatar had apparently given up chasing her, or maybe he hadn't chased after her at all after she'd rejected his invitation. She hadn't heard him call out to her again.

_I can't be the only airbender again, and I don't think you want to be alone anymore either!_

That was the last thing she'd heard him shout before she'd sprinted into the swamp. He'd been right, she _didn't_ want to be alone anymore. She'd prayed for years that she would somehow, magically, find another airbender. Now she had, and she'd run away from him. It had all been too much too fast.

Keemo followed her gaze out towards the vastness of the swamp. As Genji reflected on her impromptu decision, Keemo surveyed the trampled reeds and snapped branches that showed the very clear path she'd taken. He let out a low whistle at the sight, impressed. She had to have been running pretty darn fast to not notice the plants smacking her in the arms and legs.

"Ya sure were in a rush to get away from him." He noted casually. "Dunno why, though, he jus' wanted the same thin' as ya."

The breath left Genji's lungs in a tiny squeak as she realized Keemo must have seen her interaction with the Avatar. Her head snapped back to stare at him with eyes wider than a Bug-Eyed Owl and she tore herself from his arms.

"Keemo, were you _watching_ me?" She exclaimed.

If he'd seen her with him, that meant he had also caught her airbending. That would be the very last thing she wanted, but the perfect way to make her already incredibly stressful day all that much harder.

"W...what did you see? What did you hear?"

She needed to know for sure if he had or hadn't seen her bending, or if he was only referring to the Avatar's offer to whisk her away. Of course, if he'd heard that, he would've heard him refer to her as an airbender, but in her state of shock and panic she couldn't reason quite that far.

Keemo merely shrugged, entirely unconcerned.

"Nothin bad, jus' him offerin' to take ya with him." He scratched behind his ear and swatted at some Mosquito-Roaches that were buzzing by his head. "Said he din't wan' to be the las' airbender anymore, then ya ran off.

"I tore off after ya to try and stop ya, 'cuz I figure ya needed someone to talk some sense in ya head. Cut ya off and caught ya and now here we are!"

Genji paled a good three or four shades as she realized that if he'd heard that, he did in fact know that she was an airbender. Keemo could be a bit clueless at times, but he was by no means stupid. He would've understood what the Avatar meant.

Seeing her reaction, Keemo blinked and cocked his head to the side.

"Wha', somethin' wrong?" He thought for a moment, then threw his eyebrows up as it registered. "Ah. That."

He gave her his famous lopsided grin and ruffled her hair playfully.

"Don' worry none! I've known ya was an airbender since we was kids, yer secret's safe wit me."

There was a moment, after he'd made this confession, where time stood still. The blood in Genji's veins turned to ice and the rest of the color fled from her skin. She was frozen solid, unable to do much more than blink. He'd spoken so casually, as if what he'd said wouldn't have been anymore shocking than him stating he preferred frog squirrel stew over roasted possum-chicken. As if what he'd said hadn't instantly redefined 7 years of friendship.

She'd spent 7 years desperately trying to hide her identity from him, terrified that she would be endangering him, and somehow he already knew? Moreover, he'd never thought to let her know until he'd caught her in the middle of an existential crisis?

The blood slowly began to return to Genji's face, and replaced her pallid expression with a flushed, angry-eyed gape.

"You've what?"

Keemo picked up her shift in mood immediately, and raised his hands defensively.

"Hear me out, Genji. Don' go blowing no airballs at me" He laughed at his own joke, but fidgeted nervously when Genji did not so much as crack a smile. She continued to stare at him with wide, accusing eyes that demanded an explanation from him. He cleared his throat, and assumed a more serious expression.

"I saw ya practicing yer bending in the woods one day a little after we met. I wasn't spyin on ya or nothin', honest. I was huntin' when I saw ya, and I'd never seen no airbendin' before, so I stopped to watch ya.

"I'd knew you and yer momma had run away 'cuz of the Fire Nation, but when I saw ya bendin', I realized it was 'cuz of that. That's why ya momma never let you go nowhere and why ya had to go to te swamp to do it. I though' that if I came up to ya ya'd run away like a Swamp Musk Deer. Ya was always a jumpy little thing.

"I seen ya out in the swamp a couple times after that. I liked watchin' ya, it looked like you were dancin with the wind. Made me happy to know ya had a place to be yerself."

He smiled warmly and looked at Genji with fondness. Despite her anger, Genji felt her cheeks heat up under his soft gaze. She remained in control of herself, however, and the heat didn't progress past a subtle pink.

"Why didn't you _tell_ me you knew?"

Keemo's smile instantly fell. He could clearly see that Genji was upset at him. He looked at her with gentle eyes.

"Ya would've told me if ya wanted me to know. Everyone knows wha' the Fire Nation did. Figured ya was scared to let anyone know."

Genji opened her mouth to protest, but then silently shut it and withdrew from her anger. Keemo hadn't been spying on her, and he hadn't _meant_ to uncover her secret. She'd been in _his_ home, in _his_ tribe's territory, practicing her bending without telling him. He'd caught her in the act, and instead of being offended that she'd continue to keep it hidden from him, he'd immediately understood why she had and respectfully kept his knowledge to himself. Genji felt her cheeks burn brighter with shame.

"Keemo...I..." She started to stutter what might've been an apology, but Keemo cut her off with a finger to the lips. His skin was rough and blistered against the softness of her mouth.

"S'alright, Genji." He cooed. "Tha's not important right now. What is important, is that ya make the right decision while ya still have time."

"Ya have to leave with the Avatar."

Genji took Keemo's hand and brought it down from her mouth.

"You _know_ I can't do that!" She blurted out, throwing a wayward glance in what she supposed was the direction of her home. "My mother-"

"Will be _fine_ , Genji." Keemo's voice was soft as always, but there was a firmness and an urgency to the way he spoke now. Genji blinked up at him, unsure why he was so vehement on the matter.

"Ya mother is _grown_ , Genji. She's not yer responsibility. She can take care of herself. What she _can't_ do is take care of _ya_."

As if to make a point, Keemo gently turned his hand in her wrist so that her palm was resting in his, lifting her hand up so her glove was eye level. Realizing what he was doing, Genji bitterly pulled her hand back. She turned away from him and glared down at the ground, cradling her hands. Keemo took her by the shoulders and faced her back towards him. He tucked a finger under her chin and softly lifted it up so he could look her in the eyes.

"She may say she wants what's best for ya, but is _this_ really what that is? Hidin' in a swamp denyin' who ya are? Who ya were meant to be?" His eyes bored deep into hers, and Genji could see that while his words were reserved, his eyes were begging for her to listen to him. Unable to turn her head or body away, Genji nervously bit her lip, feeling her stomach flip. She knew he was right. Hadn't she thought the exact same thing for the past few months? Yet, it felt different hearing her own thoughts voiced out loud. It felt more...solid, more real, to hear someone else echo what she already knew.

"Ya have to be yer own person, Genji, not yer mother's keepsake or her caretaker." His hand drifted from her chin to her cheek, which he cupped delicately. He was such a rugged man, a belly-laughing rough-neck of a swampbender as there ever was, but he was always so gentle with her. So understanding and loving. It was something she'd always _known_ but never _noticed_ until that moment.

Genji pulled at the same loose thread on her glove she'd been worrying at since fall. In her head, she knew Keemo was right, but in her heart she wasn't sure she was ready to accept it.

"But...the fire nation..." She muttered, immediately regretting how pathetic and scared she sounded. Keemo, however, didn't seem to think the same. Instead, he leaned forward to give her a reassuring kiss on the forehead.

"Won't be be able to do nothin' to ya." He murmured against her skin, his breath warm and his words warmer. "Yer the strongest, smartest girl I know. Once the Avatar's done trainin' ya, the Fire Nation'll shit their pants to know yer comin for 'em."

Genji felt the corners of her mouth twitch into a small smile at that. She pulled harder at the string between her fingers, and felt it suddenly snap off the glove. It fell without a sound towards the marshy floor, and Genji watched it fall. Keemo pressed his forehead to hers and looked her in the eyes.

"That boy needs ya, Genji." He said. "He needs ya just as much as ya need him. Go wit' him."

As it disappeared into the swamp grass, her eyes drifted to her gloves, and she knew what she was going to do. She flicked her gaze up at Keemo, feeling as if she was looking at her longtime friend and lover with new eyes and new love.

Taking a deep breath, Genji pushed her head up so that her mouth rested softly against his.

"Okay." She whispered against his lips. "I'll go."

Keemo's response was swift, as he closed the tiny space between them and kissed her passionately. Genji's hands latched onto his shoulders, her forearms against his back, as she fervently returned the favor. Her heart fluttered in a way she'd never felt it do before, and she held him as close as she physically could. Her feelings for him were far from undefined in that moment, as she eagerly leaned in for more.

When they broke away, Genji felt as if there wasn't enough oxygen in the world. Her head spun and she gasped for air, blushing wildly. As an airbender, she'd never experienced breathlessness before. Keemo beamed to see her reaction, and placed another, much more chaste, kiss on her lips.

"I know where they're campin'." He said once he'd pulled away for good. "I'll take ya there, c'mon."

* * *

Their camp, as it turned out, was only a short distance from where Genji had been airbending. She and Keemo had hardly walked half a mile from the ringlet of aspens when they heard the roar of a giant, earth-shattering beast. Genji had instantly ducked down to the ground, terrified that it was a swamp monster, but Keemo had merely pointed out through a gap in the leaves. Peering through, Genji was amazed to see a giant cream-colored bison resting against two large trees, waiting patiently as supplies were loaded onto the massive saddle that sat on its back. The Water Tribe boy was standing on the saddle as the girl tossed packs up at him.

Genji realized that she must've been looking at the creature she and her mother had heard bellowing in the sky earlier that day. It had to be some sort of Air Nation animal, if it was capable of flight at its massive size. Despite the deepness of its voice, it had gentle eyes and looked soft enough to be a giant, overstuffed pillow. Genji drank in the sight of it, thrilled at the thought that she was looking at an animal that was distinctly Air Nation. The brown arrows that stretched from its tail to the tip of its legs and head matched its owner's (save for the color), and it brought Genji's mind back to the Avatar. Curious, she searched the camp from behind the bush, wondering where he was.

Just as soon as she started looking for him, he shuffled out from the swamp, head hung low. His friends looked at him, then exchanged a worried glance before the Water Tribe girl rushed to his side. She lightly touched his arm and asked him something, most likely What's wrong?, but the boy only shook his head. He mumbled something back then walked past her to the pile of supplies waiting to be loaded. As he half-heartedly helped load the rest of their things, Genji felt her stomach twist guiltily. It was her fault that he looked so morose.

She turned towards Keemo with a regretful look. He smiled reassuringly at her.

"He'll forgive ya. He just wants the same thing ya do."

Genji nodded, knowing that he was again right. He'd seemed like a kind-hearted boy. She watched as the group continued loading the bison's saddle, securing everything on a lip that hung over the tail-end. When their to-be-loaded pile dwindled down to three rolled-up sleeping bags, Genji turned to Keemo. They locked eyes, and shared a sad smile. It was time to say goodbye.

Keemo reached forward and took Genji's hands.

"Hey." He smiled at her, flashing his lucky tooth. Genji's heart ached as she realized just how much she would miss seeing it. She squeezed his hands to let him know she was listening. He motioned with his head towards the swamp, and Genji looked out towards the moss-covered trees.

"Remember when we was little, and we used to pretend we was in Ba Sing Se?"

Genji gave a soft, quiet laugh at the memory.

"Yeah...I do. We would say that our tree was the outer wall, and we was the King and Queen of the Earth Kingdom." She reminisced. In her mind's eye, she saw a tiny Keemo wrapped up in a moss robe, prancing about in an over-exaggerated way, his knees high and his steps wide. An even smaller Genji had sat on a stump roaring with laughter before following suit, wielding a giant twig as a scepter.

"I always dreamed of seein' the walls fer real." Keemo continued. "I wanted to stand up at the top wit' ya and hold yer hand and look out at the world. Map out all the places we'd see."

He rubbed the back of her hands with his thumbs, a gesture she could barely feel, but still appreciated. He looked up at her with a melancholic smile.

"I want ya to go see the wall fer me. Go see the world and master yer bendin, and come get me only when ya've helped stop the war and figured out who ya wanna be."

He squeezed her hands tightly, then leaned in to kiss her.

There were tears in her eyes and a quickness in her heart as she kissed him back. She kissed him as hard as she could, savoring the salty-sweetness of his lips, knowing she'd likely never taste it again. She'd never felt as eager to kiss and touch him as she did then. She felt as if she'd only just learned that she truly did love him as soon as she was leaving him. She whispered _I promise_ over and over again, until her lips felt numb.

Keemo pulled away first, something he'd never done before. He offered one last crooked smile before jerking his head in the direction of the Avatar and his friends.

"Now, go."

With a silent nod, Genji rose to her feet, and strode out of the bushes. Immediately, all three heads snapped up and swiveled her way. They moved at first to take fighting stances, but they all recognized her in an instant and had two very different reactions. The Water Tribe teenagers shared puzzled looks, as to them, Genji was just the crazy village lady's daughter who'd tried but failed to thwart her mother's harassment of their friend. But the Avatar looked at her with hope in his eyes and a smile on his face, overjoyed to see her again.

Genji smiled back at him.

"I've changed my mind. I'm going with you." She stated simply.

The Avatar grinned from ear to ear and rushed over to embrace Genji. He was quite a few inches shorter than her, and it served as a shocking reminder to just how young he truly was. He was little more than a child, younger than even she was. Genji hesitated at first, but then kindly hugged him back. She owed him at least that much.

"I'd hoped you would." He said with a smile when he pulled back. "You don't know how long I've dreamt that something like this might happen."

Genji smiled knowingly. "Me too."

"Wait, hang on, can somebody tell me what's going on?" Asked the older boy as he slid down the bison's side. "Why is she coming with us?"

"Yeah, I'd like to know that too." Added the Water Tribe girl. She crossed her arms and eyed Genji suspiciously. "Especially after the way her mom spoke to you in the village."

Genji winced apologetically. Clearly, the Avatar had some protective friends, and she didn't want them to think poorly of her based off of her mother's actions. Before she could verbalize an apology and humbly explain her presence, however, the Avatar stepped in. He seemed excited to share the news, and Genji decided it would be better coming from him.

"You guys aren't going to believe this, but she's an airbender just like me!"

His friends looked shocked at first, but then settled into an air of disbelief. The water tribe girl sent Genji a doubtful scowl, as if to say _what lies have you fed my friend_? Her companion seemed just as unsure, but reacted much less harshly towards Genji. He only glanced her over, before leaning his head from side to side as if weighing whether or not he could believe she was an airbender.

"I don't know, Aang." The girl said cautiously. "Are you sure this isn't like the Northern Air Temple? Are you sure she's _really_ an airbender?"

Genji wasn't sure how to feel about the girl's suspicion towards her. On one hand, she was annoyed that she doubted her, but on the other she understood that she was simply trying to protect her friend. When she said the boy's name, she made a mental note of it, making sure to remember that it was _Aang_ and not _Ong_.

The Water Tribe boy came up to Genji and began inspecting her, as if looking for some mark that indicated she truly was an airbender. He raised first one, then the other eyebrow, almost waving them, as he searched her over. Genji leaned out of his way as he darted around her. As his searching eyes brought him further up her body, she instinctively slapped her arms across her chest.

"She doesn't look Air Nation." He concluded with a curious scratch of his chin. "She's too dark and too... _Earthy_."

"Sokka!" The girl scolded in a very motherly way. "Don't say that, that's rude!"

The boy shrugged aloofly. "I'm just saying, she is. You're the one calling her a liar."

The girl bristled angrily. "I didn't say that!"

Something about the way they interacted told Genji that the two were siblings. She'd never had any brothers or sisters herself, but she'd certainly witnessed many sibling squabbles and this looked and sounded to be just that.

"Guys, stop." Aang interrupted his friend's bickering, looking somewhat disappointed in them. "I know she's an airbender because I saw her airbending. That's where that loud crack we heard came from, she broke some wood with her bending."

The Water Tribe boy, Sokka, seemed impressed by this and he nodded his approval at Genji and gave her a thumbs up. Genji side-eyed him, not at all happy with his invasive eye-pat-down. The Water Tribe girl, presumably his sister, dropped her crossed arms and tense expression, but still looked wary. Genji badly wanted her to trust her. She seemed like the first step in gaining unwavering acceptance into the group, more so than the Avatar himself.

"I'm so sorry for how my mother acted." She apologized, making eye contact with the girl so she could clearly see her sincerity. "I promise I don't share her thoughts. I want to help the Avatar end the war and learn how to be an Air Nomad, like my ancestors."

Genji held her gaze as the girl examined her with narrow eyes, as if trying to suss out any hint of deception. After a second, she relaxed, and smiled apologetically.

"I believe you. I'm sorry to be so cautious, it's just that we've heard rumors of airbenders plenty of times before and...well..."

She glanced sympathetically towards Aang.

"I hate seeing Aang's face when we realize that's all they were, rumors."

Genji nodded. "I understand, you're just trying to protect your friend."

The girl seemed to warm up at this, and her body language shifted to match her much more welcoming air.

"I'm Katara, that's Aang, and the dumb oaf over there is my brother, Sokka."

Her brother stuck his tongue out in protest before clambering back on board the bison. Genji smiled, somewhat jealous of the interaction. She'd always wanted a sibling, but for multiple reasons it had never been in the cards for her. Genji bowed respectfully at Katara.

"It's nice to meet all of you, officially." She said. "My name's Genji."

"While we're making introductions, you should meet Appa and Momo too!" Aang bounded up to her, and started to usher her towards the bison. Genji blinked, confused as to where two more people could be hiding, but she allowed the young monk to lead her to them. She peered around the bison's head, wondering if maybe they were hidden behind him for some reason. However, as soon as they were standing right in front of the bison, they stopped. Aang scratched the animal's head and he rumbled happily, eyelids lowering in content.

"This is Appa, my Sky Bison!" He happily introduced the animal. "A hundred years ago, _every_ airbender had their own bison. They're very important to our people, as they were the first airbenders in the world. Everything we learned we learned from them. That's why our master airbender tattoos match the arrows on their fur. See?"

He pointed towards the blue arrow on his forehead, then towards the much larger brown arrow on the bison's. Genji looked between the two sets of arrows in awe. To think that she would've owned her very own Sky Bison if she'd only been born a hundred or so years ago! She stepped up to Appa and placed a slightly uneasy hand on his head. His fur, as she suspected, was softer than anything she'd ever touched before. It was like petting a cloud. Making another happy rumble, Appa opened his gigantic mouth and licked Genji. She shrieked, more out of shock than disgust, and then laughed happily. Aang beamed to see them get along.

"That's great! He likes you!"

Genji giggled and scratched the animal's head more readily.

"I like you too, buddy."

Aang lifted his arm and whistled, and a white creature flew off Appa's back and onto his shoulder. It warbled once it landed, wrapping its long, ringed tail around his neck like a scarf.

"This is Momo." Aang rubbed the flying lemur's head, and Genji marveled at its light colors. There were Flying Fruit-Bat Lemurs in the swamp, but they were small and a dark reddish-brown, with shorter ears and a much more pronounced snout than Momo.

"Momo's a Flying Lemur Bat from the Southern Air Temple. There used to be _thousands_ of them before-"

"Aang," Katara gently interrupted them. "I know you're excited to talk to Genji about the Air Nomads, but we really should be leaving. We still have to find you an Earthbending master."

"Oh, right." Aang said sheepishly. Genji gave Appa a final pat on the head before heading back towards their supply pile.

"You can tell me more about them once we're all packed." Genji said with a smile. "I'd really love to hear everything. I only know a little from the stories my Meemaw used to tell me."

Aang agreed with her, promising that he'd have plenty to tell her once they were flying. He invited her to sit with him at the reins, so he could teach her how to fly Appa while they talked, but she politely declined. She felt much more comfortable riding in the saddle for her first bison ride. The last few items were quickly loaded, and Sokka helped Katara climb up while Aang and Genji both leapt effortlessly onto their respective seats on Appa. Katara's eyes lightened to see Genji airbend, and Sokka was impressed as well. Whatever doubts they'd had left were thoroughly squashed with that one move.

They each settled into their spots. Aang on Appa's head, Momo on his shoulder, Katara and Sokka at the back with the supplies, and Genji in her newfound spot at the front of the saddle, nearest Aang. She smoothed her dark green dress over her knees and reached up to remove the stick from her hair, unrolling her bun to its original loose form. She wanted to feel the wind blowing through her hair as they flew. She looked towards the bushes, hoping to see Keemo, but saw only an empty swamp. She gazed out sadly as Aang whipped the reins and called out to Appa. Once they began ascending, she forced herself to look ahead.

They rose smoothly into the air, the campsite having been situated in a large gap in the thick canopy. Genji leaned over the edge of the saddle to watch with amazement as they soared over the tops of the impossibly tall trees. She never could've imagined being so high, and as the wind whipped through her air, brushing over the bits of her exposed arms and neck, Genji felt utter elation fill her very being. She was in her element, and she was flying with the Avatar. Life had never tasted so sweet, and for once, Genji wondered with excitement what would come in the next few days.

By chance, Genji happened to look directly below her. She wasn't trying to look for home or her mother, as, admittedly, she had stopped thinking of her the moment she'd decided to throw caution to the wind and join the Avatar. However, as they rose higher into the air, she caught sight of a small, but familiar figure below.

Her mother was gaping up at her, eyes wide and mouth ajar. There was trepidation in her eyes, and Genji felt pangs of guilt stab her in the gut. She'd said goodbye to Keemo, but she'd not so much as breathed a word to her mother. She must've been worried sick for her, looking for her everywhere once she'd realized she was gone. Genji felt rotten, flying away without saying goodbye. Despite all the pain she'd caused, Genji did know that her only wish had been to protect her in her own twisted way.

Genji leaned over as far as she could, and shouted with all her might down at her mother.

" _I'm sorry, I love you!_ "

The wind, however, was strong and carried her voice away. Unable to accept this, knowing her mother at least deserved a goodbye, Genji leaned out further and shouted it again, louder. She leaned out a little too far, though, and began to teeter over the edge. Sokka saw this and quickly grabbed her by the back of her dress and yanked her back to safety.

"Are you _crazy_?! You'll fall off!"

Genji fell back with a soft cry, and rubbed at her eyes to quickly erase the tears that had started to form. She cleared her throat and pushed herself back to an upright position, her back turned.

"Sorry..." She muttered. "She just...deserved an apology. She's still my mother."

Katara crawled over to Genji and wrapped her arms around her sympathetically. Genji leaned into her embrace, watching with clouded eyes as her mother faded away into the distance. She hoped Keemo was right, and that her mother would be able to take care of herself. Perhaps watching her run away with the Avatar would shake her out of the violently emotional trance she'd been in for years and force her to face the reality of her ways. Maybe she could return, in a few years time, to find the mother that she'd known back in the colony.

* * *

**A few hours earlier**

It had been a few hours since Daiyu and Genji had returned from the market and Daiyu had locked her daughter in her room. Daiyu was seated by the front door, her eyes fixed in the distance. She couldn't see the village from where she was, but she felt sure that the Avatar's presence would bring Fire Nation soldiers within seconds, like centi-flies to a carcass. She was sitting and waiting to see smoke billowing up from down the road, her hands clutching two heavily-packed bags in preparation.

After she'd locked Genji in, she'd grabbed the bags (which were always packed) and settled down to watch and wait. She had been fully expecting the town to be in flames within the hour. Focusing on it helped to drown out the sound of Genji's fists pounding on the door, which fell like hammers on her heart.

She didn't like hurting Genji. Truly, she didn't. There were times where it felt like someone else took over her body, somebody so scared and angry at Genji, at herself, at everybody and nobody all at once that they felt they had no choice but to teach the young girl a lesson. And that lesson was never pleasant. There was such ugliness that came out of her in those moments. But even then, her intentions had never been to hurt Genji, but merely to teach and protect her. She had to know the consequences for her actions. No matter how harshly Daiyu reacted to Genji's bending, she had to understand that the world would be far more severe and final in its punishment. Some had not been so fortunate as her to have a mother willing to go to such lengths and their deaths served as a warning to them.

Daiyu frowned as she thought this. Her hands twitched uneasily, as if they themselves remembered all that they'd done. The dirt that hid under her metaphorical fingernails was thick and unpleasant, digging into her skin like a knife. Still, Daiyu bared it. She bared it all for her daughter.

"Do whatever it takes to survive." She muttered to herself. "Do whatever it takes to keep Genji alive."

A few moments passed by, the silence in the room broken only by Daiyu's quiet muttering. By the ache in her sitting bones, Daiyu knew that it had been quite awhile since she'd first sat down. It must've been even longer since she and Genji had left the villager, leaving the Avatar in their dust. There were no screams that she could hear and no smoke that she could see, so Daiyu was forced to acknowledge that perhaps, the Fire Nation had not come after them that day. Still, word would travel that the Avatar had been to their village, and it wouldn't be long until they'd come. She would keep their bags close to the door, ready to go at a moment's notice.

With a sigh, Daiyu abandoned her post and gingerly placed the bags down. Her joints cracked unpleasantly as she stood up and she winced painfully. Although she was just barely in her thirties, her body groaned and ached as if it was almost into its fifties. The stress of spending the past nine years constantly terrified of someone coming after her and her child had aged her exponentially.

Daiyu rubbed her lower back and stretched out the pain, before glancing towards Genji's door. It was unlikely that the Avatar was still in town; even she had to admit that. It was well past time for her to let Genji out. She'd bake the fire flan for her, like she'd promised, and explain to her that they would likely have to leave soon to avoid capture. Surely, by now, she'd have realized that this was the best course of action for them. As much as she'd like, she could never live the life of an airbender like she said she wanted.

Shuffling to the door, fighting through the pins and needles in her feet, Daiyu gently pushed aside the bag of groceries with the side of her foot. She hadn't bothered to pick it up once she'd locked Genji in. She knocked gently as she retrieved the key from her pockets.

"Genji." She called out softly.

"Genji, I'm going to let you out now. Let's talk, baby."

The key rattled in the lock, but Daiyu strangely heard no response from her daughter. She frowned at that, disliking the silent treatment. Genji was usually a very dutiful and understanding young woman, but could be a sullen, stubborn child when she wanted to be. The lock clicked as it came undone, and the door cracked open.

" _Genji_?" Daiyu repeated.

As she pushed the door open, she realized with horror that Genji was not in her room. Her futon was empty, and there was a pile of dirt underneath her now person-sized window.

"Genji!"

Daiyu rushed first to the window, leaping up repeatedly to try and see outside. When she saw nothing, she spun on her heels and dashed out the room, ripping open the front door to run outside. Genji wasn't anywhere in sight, but there were footprints leading out into the swamp. Daiyu's heart leapt into her throat. Had she run away, or just snuck out? She'd caught Genji sneaking out more than once, especially as a younger child, but after a long period of careful surveillance she'd thought that she'd grown out of it. Of course, there was that one moment some months ago, but Daiyu hardly counted that. She'd come back within the hour. But who knew how long she'd been gone now.

An awful idea came to Daiyu. What if the Fire Nation hadn't attacked the village because they'd found Genji first? She'd run off to get back at her mean, horrible mother, and ran right into the clutches of hard-hearted soldiers who had nothing but pain and suffering on their minds. Daiyu's heart sank at the thought, and she knew she had to find her immediately.

"Genji! Genji, baby, I'm coming for you!" She shouted, before running to follow her daughter's tracks.

She was halfway towards the log that her daughter (unbeknownst to her) had her liaisons with Keemo when she heard a rumbling come from above. It sounded an awful lot like the bellow that she'd heard earlier in the market, the one that had sounded so ominously foreign. She halted her chase and lifted her head up. Miles above her flew a giant, six legged beast with white fur and a leathery black underbelly. Horrible horns sprouted from its head, and she swore she could see the evil glint of a fang hanging from its upper lip.

Daiyu stumbled back at the sight of it, terrified for her life. She saw a flash of yellow and orange sitting atop the monster's head, and realized with terror that it was the Avatar. A pit formed in her stomach. What a horribly ugly monster, it made her only hate the Avatar more to see him controlling it with such ease.

A gray saddle was attached to its back, and Daiyu caught sight of silky brown hair that flowed like water in the wind. Her heart dropped into the acidic pit that had just opened in her gut as she recognized the head that the beautiful, rich hair belonged to. Her beloved daughter was riding on the Avatar's beast. Daiyu's mouth dropped and she stared up at her daughter with wide, pain-filled eyes. She could feel her heart cracking into a million tiny, irreparable pieces as they flew higher into the sky.

Genji turned her head from thousands of feet above her, and for a brief moment they locked eyes. Daiyu swore that she could see fear in her daughter's face, and she slapped her hands across her mouth to stifle a gasp when she began to lean over the edge of the saddle. Her heart leapt up from the pit to tremble in her mouth, bringing with it the taste of bitter bile. She was going to fall! Her daughter was going to fall to her death!

Daiyu began chasing after the beast, arms out as if to catch her if she tipped over, then she saw that her daughter was trying to say something. The words, however, failed to carry to her and Daiyu heard nothing.

"Genji!" Daiyu shrieked, tears streaming freely down her cheeks. "Genji, I'm here!"

Her daughter leaned out further, and shouted again. Daiyu searched her mouth, trying hard to read her lips and figure out what it was she was trying to say. However, before she could try again to let herself be heard, a pair of hands roughly grabbed her by the shoulders and yanked her back. A semi-shaven head with a short, stubby ponytail on top popped up in her place, shouting something at Genji before the beast flew behind a cloud and obstructed Daiyu's view. From there, she lost sight of them.

Daiyu's whole body trembled as she fell to her knees, openly weeping. She clutched her own shoulders, rocking back and forth as rough sobs shook through her body. Her daughter was gone. Just like that, her beautiful baby girl, who she'd worked so hard to protect, had vanished. If she'd only checked her room sooner. If she'd only remembered the window and boarded it up. If only they hadn't gone into the market that day.

Daiyu continued to cry, screaming out obscenities into the sky as she cursed the spirits for allowing the Avatar to steal her daughter away from her. She fell to her side and assumed a fetal position as she mourned her loss. After what seemed like an eternity of utter, deabiliting sorrow, however, the pain faded away into something else. Something harder and bitterly angry.

The Avatar had stolen her daughter. Her daughter had foolishly revealed herself to him, and he'd repaid her by kidnapping her. She'd been trying to shout for help when his Water Tribe accomplice had beaten her down to the ground to silence her. Daiyu realized all this with harsh, unadulterated hatred in her heart. She couldn't mourn her child yet. She was still alive. The Avatar needed her alive, for some awful, twisted reason she was sure. There was time to save her, and pay him back for all he'd done to the world, and now to her family.

Sniffling and wiping the wetness from her cheeks, Daiyu pushed herself back to her feet. She gritted her teeth as she stared up at the sky and slowly began chanting to herself.

"Do whatever it takes to survive." She started slowly, barely more than a whisper.

"Do whatever it takes to keep her _alive_."

She grew louder and louder, until she was all but howling her mantra up into the sky. After several iterations of this, she brushed herself up and glared savagely in the direction that the Avatar and his lackeys had gone.

"I'm coming for you, _Avatar_."


	7. A Question

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a pretty short one in terms of number of scenes. I got a second job, so I'd been pretty busy balancing the two as well as working on some art commissions my friends made. From here on out it might take me awhile to upload new chapters. 
> 
> If you've read this far and liked my stuff, thank you! I really appreciate your support!

**A Question**

* * *

Genji trudged through the thick swamp water, feeling the mud at the bottom grab onto her feet. Her simple green dress was tattered at the hem and soaked up to her hips in marsh muck. It was hardly a pleasant feeling, as the cheap, wet fabric clung to her legs, making it that much harder to walk.

Huffing, Genji glanced around herself, roughly brushing limp strands of wet hair out of her face. She'd been wading through the deepest, soggiest part of the swamp for the better part of the hour, all alone. After a freak wind storm had thrown the group into the swamp, they'd quickly been separated by unseen forces. Genji had been caught in a tangle of nearly prehensile vines that had tossed her down a tunnelling root system and spat her out far away from her newfound friends. She hadn't seen what had happened to everyone else, but she suspected they were just as lost as she was.

"Aang?" She called out. "Sokka? Katara?"

She hesitated for a moment, waiting for an answer, and when none came she shouted their names again. The only response was the chittering of the swamp. The Foggy Swamp was a hot, wet maze that was nearly inescapable at times. Members of the Foggy Swamp tribe were even known to become lost and perish in its depths (Keemo had confessed to Genji that even he had nearly been bested by the swamp once). Genji knew she had to reconnect with the group, and fast. Not only for their sake, but for her own. She'd been treading through the thick waters for far too long, and she was beginning to grow tired.

Genji leapt over the giant root of a tree, and saw a figure appear in the distance. At first, Genji felt relief flood her body, as she assumed that it had to be someone from her group. She started to call out to them, to grab their attention, but before she could even form the words she froze stiff. A beam of light broke through the canopy and cast itself over their shoulder, and Genji could see they were wearing a thick, hooded robe that sported intermingling shades of red, green, and orange. Her friends hadn't been wearing anything that looked remotely like it. Moreover, there was something _otherworldly_ about the robe the figure was wearing. As Genji gazed out at them, she realized with amazement that the colors on their coat were _moving_. Not just that, but they seemed to be fighting one another, pushing and drawing back as each color tried to swallow the other.

Uneasy, Genji took a tentative step backwards. She felt her heart sink into her stomach as a twig snapped behind her, and the hooded figure turned her head towards Genji. She somehow seemed closer now, as if the simple act of turning her head had moved her twenty paces closer to Genji.

Genji's eyes unwillingly focused on their face, and she realized the figure was a woman. Rich dark brown hair flowed over her shoulder and down her back, framing a gentle, round face. She had a button nose and a dark, thick mouth much like Genji's, but her eyes were nothing more than blank white slates. Genji found herself staring deep into them, alarmed at how familiar yet unrecognizable they were. The figure was now standing in front of Genji, her head hung over to look down at her. She made no move to hurt Genji, yet her very presence made every fiber of her being scream at her that she was in danger. The figure cocked their head, and despite having no pupils with which to focus, seemed to look Genji up and down. Then, she parted her full lips, which looked so eerily like Genji's own, and spoke.

 _"Who are you?_ _"_ She asked in an effervescent voice that was almost beyond description.

Genji knew she had to be in the presence of a spirit, it was the only explanation. She swallowed tightly and pressed her back against the giant roots of the tree behind her. Could she outrun a spirit? _Should_ she? Or would that only anger the ancient being and cause it to inflict some sort of cosmic punishment on her? Genji wished Aang was with her. As the Avatar and a master airbender, he knew everything there was to know about the spirits. He could've helped her.

At the moment, however, she was alone. All she could do was stare up at the patiently waiting figure.

"Ge...Genji..." She stammered, unsure why exactly she was trusting the spirit with her name. Her mother had once told her that a spirit could steal your soul if it knew your name.

The figure, spirit or otherwise, frowned. It cocked its head to the other side, staring blankly with its empty white eyes before its skin began to bubble. Genji's eyes widened as she watched its face morph into someone else. Small black dots appeared in the center of its featureless eyes, and it grew until they were full-sized eyeballs that shined a brilliant emerald green. As its skin settled into its new features, stretching over a now gently triangular-shaped face, it darkened into a light mocha color and dozens of dark brown freckles popped into existence. The creature's lips thinned somewhat, taking on a very distinct heart shape, with a very defined cupid's bow. Genji gasped audibly when it finished its transformation. It had taken her mother's face.

Blinking, the creature observed Genji's distress with her mother's eyes.

 _"Who are you?_ _"_ It asked again. Its voice now had a soft twinge to it, and although it wasn't clear, Genji could hear the faint wisps of her mother's voice.

"I..." Genji hesitated, unsure what to make of the situation. Her heart thudded in her chest.

"My...my name's...Genji."

The skin on the creature's cheeks began to ripple again, and soon it had changed shape. This time, the face it wore was distinctly her own. Genji gulped as she made eye contact with her own round gray eyes. Fear prevented her from tearing her eyes away as she watched the figure's face quickly transform into a much younger Genji.

_"Who are you?"_

The figure switched between the younger and current version of Genji a few times as it waited for her answer. Genji opened and closed her mouth a time or two, before settling into a firm-lipped frown. She'd answered the same question twice now, how many times did this figure want her to repeat her own name? It hadn't made any move to grab her or hurt her in any way, was it simply bored and taunting her? Or was it trying to distract her from something? Maybe it was trying to keep her away from Aang and the others.

"I already told you my name." Genji muttered. "My name's Genji and I need to find my friends-"

Genji glanced over her shoulder, back the way she'd come, and tried to shift towards the left, away from the shapeshifter. As soon as she'd stepped away, however, thick leafy tendrils erupted from beneath her and wrapped tightly around her body. Genji screamed as she felt them squeeze her arms and legs, holding her in such a way that she had no hope of bending her way out of their grip. Now fully alarmed, Genji began to thrash wildly in the plant's grip. She'd heard from Keemo that the swamp was a living, thinking creature in its own right, but she'd never imagined it to be true.

As she tried to escape her green captor, the figure that now wore her face(s) appeared in front of her. It didn't move so much as appear and disappear, like a thought that drifted in and out of one's consciousness. Terrified, Genji struggled harder. She turned her head from side to side to avoid looking at the figure, but it always managed to follow her gaze. She couldn't escape it.

Again, their skin rippled, and they donned a new face. Genji clenched her eyes shut, hoping that perhaps by ignoring the being it would become uninterested and leave her alone.

 _"Who are you?_ _"_ Came that same question, this time in a firm voice that demanded an answer. There was a faraway familiarness to it, as if speaking in a voice that Genji had once known but had now begun to forget.

Despite herself, Genji lifted her head and peeked up at it. A Fire Nation soldier looked down at her with stern gray eyes and a dark, pointed beard. Genji squinted, sure she knew the person somehow. The eyes and beard were familiar to her, but everything else was a mystery. Suddenly, realization hit her like a brick. Shame filled her stomach with lead at not being able to remember her own father.

 _"Who are you?_ _"_ He asked again.

"A...Akar..." Genji found herself stuttering the name of a person who no longer existed. After the second syllable escaped her tongue, however, she regained her senses and stopped herself. Her eyes watered as she looked at her long-gone father. Akari was gone, and so was he.

"Gen-" Just as Genji was beginning to correct herself, as if to reintroduce herself to her father, he was gone. The figure had once again changed faces. It morphed first into Genji's face, then her mother's, then her father, then a beautiful but unfamiliar young, dark-haired woman, and finally into a young Genji. It began cycling through the faces of everyone Genji knew, growing faster and faster as it did.

 _"Who are you? Who are you?_ _"_ It repeated over and over again, her voice speeding up along with her morphing face.

Genji winced as she felt the vines tighten around her limbs, and her heart raced in her chest. Dread filled her from head to toe as she watched the creature shift through the faces of her family, repeating its question faster and faster until the words became numb and meaningless.

Who are you? Who are you? Who are _you?_

She didn't know how to answer anymore. Her head spun and her cheeks became wet with confused tears. In the back of her head, she could hear her father whisper Akari every time the creature took his face. But just as soon as he'd appeared, he would become swallowed by her mother's face and she'd recall the harsh feeling of thin fingers covering her mouth and a low whisper that killed Akari, and replaced her with Genji.

The transformations became so quick that the faces no longer became recognizable. They were a blur of warped flesh, and Genji openly wept from fear. Her lip quivered as she whimpered, begging for it to stop and leave her alone. Then, it stopped. The tendrils loosened and dropped at Genji's feet, lifeless. She blinked her wet eyes and looked down at them, then up at the mysterious being. It had taken a new face, that of a young woman with a hairline that had been shaved back to the highest edge of her forehead. A blue tattoo swooped down from beneath the neatly trimmed hair, pointing down a gentle, beautiful face. Her multicolor coat abandoned its hues of red and green and became a burnt orange color. She was an Air Nomad now.

The nun smiled softly at Genji, her gray eyes full of what looked to be pity for the poor confused child. She lifted her hands, touching Genji for the first time. She flinched, unsure what to make of the creature's new face, but didn't pull away. Something felt familiar and _right_ about her.

The woman said something to Genji, but she couldn't hear the words. She could only see her mouth slowly form them, drawing out three unheard syllables. Somehow, Genji knew it had been her name.

Genji awoke from her dream. Laying on her back, staring up at the dark night sky, she knew she hadn't been sleeping for very long. But the sweat on her brow and the anxious flip-flop of her stomach told her that it wasn't likely that she'd be able to return to sleep anytime soon. She breathed out a few times, trying to calm her nerves as she recovered from her dream.

It had been just a day since she and the rest of the group had left the Foggy Swamp. They had indeed been separated while there, and each of them had experienced their own hallucination. Genji had seen the same mysterious figure from her dream, but its face had remained the blank, eyeless copy of her own. It hadn't shapeshifted at all, but it had repeatedly asked her who she was, dissatisfied with her answers of _Genji_ and _Can you please show me where my friends are?_ It had vanished as soon as Sokka had found her, running through the apparition as if it hadn't been there at all.

Genji curled up on the grass, tucking her knees close to her chest. She sucked in her breath, watching blades of grass sway in time with her breathing.

 _What an awful dream._ She thought to herself. _I **know** who I am. I'm **Genji**. Daiyu and Hiroaki's only daughter._

"Genji?" Came a quiet voice. "Are you alright?"

Turning her head, Genji saw Aang propped up on his elbows, looking her over with concern. She realized she must've looked pretty sickly, with sweat on her forehead and her body curled up in a ball. She sighed and nodded, willing herself to relax some.

"Yeah..." She murmured. "It was just a bad dream."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Images of the Swamp Figure morphing between her mother and father, taunting her with its repeating question, filled her head. She frowned, and forced them away with a swift shrug of her shoulders. She rolled onto her back and stretched her legs out, resting her hands on her stomach.

"I don't remember." She lied. "Something about the swamp."

Genji stared up, studying the constellations. She watched as more stars slowly began to light up the sky, before turning back to Aang with a concerned frown of her own.

"How come you're up? It's late and we have more flying to do in the morning."

Aang shrugged his shoulders and pushed himself up off his elbows.

"I couldn't sleep." He admitted. "I kept thinking about the fact that this whole time, I've thought I was alone. Well-"

He looked over at Katara and Sokka, who were fast asleep in their sleeping bags. "I wasn't really _alone_ , I've had Katara and Sokka with me. But...I thought I was the only airbender. The last member of the Air Nation. And it was a lot to deal with. But, now I've met you, and it's like...a weight's been lifted off my chest. I'm not the only Air Nomad anymore."

_He thinks of me as a Nomad?_

Genji pursed her lips as she realized she'd never even seen herself that way. She'd always wanted to get in touch with her Air Nomad heritage, but she'd been raised Earth Nation. She wasn't entirely Earth Nation though, was she? In another life, her father had referred to her as his Fire Nation princess. He hadn't seen her as Earth Nation _or_ as an Air Nomad. And her mother didn't see her as Fire Nation _or_ Air Nation. So, what was she? A flash of the multicolored coat from her dream came to her, and she imagined the green and the red fighting one another as a tiny corner of orange resisted being overwhelmed by them.

Pangs of guilt wracked Genji as she realized that she wasn't exactly what Aang imagined her to be. She didn't want to fill him with a false sense of hope, as much as she wished she could be what he thought she was.

There was a short moment of silence, during which her mind's eye focused on the final face that the Swamp Figure had taken. She recalled her cyan tattoos, and lifted her head to look at Aang. He was sitting up now, legs crossed and elbows resting on his knees. His hands hung over his calves, blue arrows peeking out from his sleeves. His brown boots were off to the side, revealing his bare feet and part of his calves. More arrows snaked down his legs to the top of his feet. Although she knew that airbenders were covered in tattoos, Genji wasn't sure exactly how far they went, or what they looked like as a complete picture.

"Hey, Aang?"

Aang turned to her with a friendly smile.

"How far do your tattoos go?"

Aang blinked, glancing down at the top of his hands. In a swift motion he uncrossed his legs and spun to his feet in a gentle updraft.

"The main one goes up from the lowest point on the back and over the head." Aang drew a line leading up in front of him, as if he was tracing the length of someone's spine. Then, when his finger became eye level, he pointed to the arrow on his forehead.

"Our tattoos represent the energy that flows out from our bodies and back into the universe. And since energy never stops moving, the tattoos are arrows, pointing towards an infinite path." He held one of his arms out and the tracing finger went from the inner part of his arm to the outside, over his elbow, and down to the back of his other hand.

"Separate arrows go down the arms to the hands, and two more lead down from the back-" His hand again found the invisible spine and traced down. "-and around the thighs to the feet. You can only get your tattoos once you've mastered airbending."

Genji followed the lines Aang had drawn with her eyes, mapping out the unseen arrows. She tried to imagine herself with them, and for a moment, almost could. However, the thought of mastering airbending quickly snuffed out her daydream. That, she knew, was a long time coming, if it ever came at all.

"How do you know when you've become a master?" She asked. "Do you have to be a certain age to get them?"

Aang raised his brows.

"Well, not exactly." He said, rubbing the back of his bald head. "You have to prove your mastery by completing the 36 tiers of airbending. Or, you could do what I did, and complete 35 and then make something new up. It doesn't really matter how old or young you are. So long as you're not a baby; monks don't really like tattooing babies."

Aang snickered at the idea of tiny airbender babies covered in hard-core mastery tattoos, and Genji looked at him blankly. She didn't have the slightest idea what the 36 tiers of airbending were, but she had a sinking suspicion that she had not mastered so much as one of them. Seeing her expression, Aang's face fell in the subtlest of disappointed frowns.

"You really don't know much about airbending, do you?"

"Er...no...not really." She confessed, with a slight, embarrassed flush. "I had to teach myself what little I _do_ know through trial and error."

Seeing the sadness on Aang's face, Genji rushed to try and cheer him up, not wanting to discourage the only other practicing airbender in the entire Four Nations.

"But I'm a fast learner!" She exclaimed, pushing herself up onto her hands. "I learned how to knit an entire sweater in one afternoon when I was ten, I'm _sure_ I could learn airbending by the time you have to fight Ozai."

This seemed to do the trick, and Aang laughed at the thought of a tiny Genji furiously knitting a misshapen sweater. He smiled warmly at her.

"Well, airbending's a lot different from knitting, but a can-do attitude is the key to mastering both!" He stretched his arms above his head and yawned, feeling his lack of sleep catch up with him. Smacking his lips from fatigue, he rubbed at the corner of his eye. "I can teach you some of the basics in the morning, but for now, we should probably get some sleep."

Genji nodded her agreement, feeling a yawn of her own form at the back of her throat. She managed to stifle it, and lowered herself back onto her makeshift bed of leaves and grass. There hadn't been an extra sleeping bag for her, but that was fine by her. She always seemed to stay warm at night, with or without a blanket. Aang settled back down onto his own bed, Appa's tail, and said goodnight. Genji replied in kind, and tucked her hands under her head. However, it took quite a few hours for her to slip back into sleep. Every time she closed her eyes, she was plagued with the warping figure from her dream and a ghostly voice that whispered in her ear:

_Who **are** you, Genji?_

As she finally managed to fight her way into an uneasy slumber, she hoped her airbending training would provide her with an answer.


	8. First Lesson

**First Lesson**

* * *

**The Next Morning**

Genji stood in the middle of a wide, grassy field that stretched on for as far as the eye could see. The gently swaying blades of grass reminded her of a similar patch of land many miles and years away, where the air had tasted fresher than anything else and peaceful pangolows had grazed at her side. She could almost feel their warm breath on the back of her hand as she weaved her fingers through the knee-high grass. It gave her an odd feeling of being both relaxed and impossibly on edge.

Aang stood opposite her, two feet further north into the field. Where Genji was stiff and anxious, he was relaxed and aloof. He was smiling at her, clearly excited to begin their first lesson. Genji was excited, but she was nervous as well. It was her first true lesson as an airbender, and she was learning from the avatar no less. Only a fool wouldn't feel at least a bit of performance anxiety.

"Don't worry, we're just going to start with basic forms, see how much you know. We won't even do any actual bending today." Aang reassured her, seeing how tense she was.

Genji sucked in her breath in through her teeth and nodded. She'd never purposefully airbent in front of anyone before. At least it was only her and Aang in the field, as Katara and Sokka had taken Appa to scout ahead for possible Earthbending teachers. That took off some pressure.

"It's important to be relaxed when airbending," Aang explained, loosening and shaking his limbs. "You have to be free and unrestrained, like the wind."

As if on cue, a breeze gently wafted between them, tussling Genji's hair. She shivered pleasantly. It felt good to have the wind tickle at the back of her now exposed neck.

"Here, take a breath with me." Aang said, closing his eyes as he drank in the breeze.

Inhaling deeply, Genji held perfectly still, as if collecting all of her tension in that one breath. Then, just as the wind passed them by, she slowly released into a muted sigh. She could hear Aang let go of his own breath as well, soft as a whispering field mouse. The sound of it, and the feeling of her own breath falling in sync with both Aang and the wind was nice. It didn't completely erase the tension in her body, but it did help some.

Across from her, Aang nodded approvingly.

"Good! Breathing is key to airbending. Good breath control helps us stay in touch with our element, and balances out our energy.

"It also helps keep you warm! That's why I don't need a sleeping bag at night; by steadying my breath, I can stay warm through almost the coldest conditions!"

Genji's eyes lit up.

"That makes sense!" She exclaimed. "I've never liked blankets, even when I was a baby and it was the dead of winter. I just breathed slower and my body stayed warmer. I never knew that was airbending!"

"Sure is!" Aang was now positively radiating, happy to see his pupil already making discoveries. "Airbending can be as easy as taking a deep breath-"

He dramatically gulped in air, his chest and cheeks swelling to an almost inhuman capacity. He held it for a moment while Genji, eager to impress her new master, copied him. They blew out together, both creating powerful streams of wind that swirled into a single updraft in the space between them. Aang's breath had been stronger and more controlled than Genji's, but she watched, amazed, as they effortlessly merged into one dancing draft.

"-Or as difficult as creating a tornado to lift you up."

Aang dropped low at the hips, knees bent as he held his arms straight out at his sides and began to twist in a circular motion. The air started to spin around him as he shot up straight and spun his arms up above his head. Genji watched in utter amazement as he rose into a funnel, spinning with the currents in such a free, yet perfectly controlled manner that her breath caught in her throat. He laughed and kicked his arms and legs out once he'd reached a height of about twenty feet. He lingered there, then began to drop.

Genji almost gasped, afraid, for a split second, that he was going to crash. He was making no moves to use his bending to catch him. However, the air around him dissipated into a cushion that filled the empty space in Aang's clothes, turning them into parachutes. He returned softly to the ground, his shawl billowing around his shoulders.

"I don't expect you to be able to do that for awhile-for right now we'll just focus on form and meditation." He explained, smoothing out the wrinkles on his tunic.

"Can you show me how you stand when you're practicing your bending?"

Genji bowed her head and assumed her normal position: hips low, knees apart, feet firmly planted in the ground. Her arms came in front of her, palms flat with her fingers tucked neatly together. She looked poised and ready to strike, like a Widow Mantis.

_Keeping a firm stance is everything in bending._ She said to herself as she shifted her weight onto the back of her heels. _If my stance is off-center or my confidence even the slightest bit wavering, I'll end up with smoke, not fire._

Genji's legs were stiff and straight, like tree trunks, and she felt proud of herself for not shaking. She'd expanded on her form from watching the Earthbenders in her village, mimicking their strong, rooted stance to keep from blowing herself over when she practiced (which she'd done several times before). It did feel quite heavy and unnatural, at times, but it was a strong, firm stance, and as she understood it, that was ideal for bending. She looked to Aang for approval, but found only puzzlement.

"You're standing like an Earthbender." He observed, pointing at her rigid lower half. "The way you're holding your arms and torso is nice and loose, but your hips and legs are too stiff. Remember, airbending is about being relaxed-you have to be light on your feet, not planted in the ground."

"But..." Genji glanced down awkwardly at herself. "Aren't you supposed to keep a strong stance with _any_ bending?"

Aang laughed at that. It wasn't a cruel, mocking laugh, but a good-natured one that simply made light of her innocent mistake. It made Genji feel like she could laugh too. She didn't, but it still felt nice to hear such an uplifting sound.

"True! But a strong stance doesn't mean you have to be stiff or grounded. A strong stance is just one that improves your bending, and flows well with your element. That's all."

He pointed again to her legs. "Your stance would be strong for Earth or Firebending, but it doesn't do much for airbending. It weighs you down. Your weight should be on your toes, not your heels-"

Aang gave a swift sweep of his arm, and Genji gasped at the odd sensation of being nudged by the wind itself. Her weight shifted gently forward to press at the front of her feet.

"-that way you're always ready to dodge attack or switch directions when needed. That's a strong _Airbender_ stance."

Genji rocked slightly from her heels to her toes a few times, feeling the difference between the two positions. It definitely felt more...natural. It was like straightening one's back for the first time after years of slouching. She settled there, her weight resting delicately forward, and waited diligently for instruction. Aang grinned, and mirrored her stance, fingers extended up with thumbs folded into open palms.

"Your palms look great, though!" He complimented, and Genji felt something akin to pride swell within her chest.

"Do you know the Eight Mother Palms?"

As quickly as she'd puffed her chest, Genji deflated with a tiny shake of her head. No, she didn't know.

"Oh." Aang's smile faltered for just a moment, in a small twitch of a frown.

It was barely a second long, his pout, but it carried a certain amount of sadness and disappointment that, despite its briefness, Genji couldn't miss. It was exactly what had happened the night before. Her chest tightened to see it, and she wondered if she should've lied and said yes. Anything to avoid that look.

She started to stutter out an apology, not sure what else to say or do, but he only shook his head with a soft smile.

"It's okay!" He chirped chipperly. "We can start there."

He led her into the beginning stance, which Genji knew from watching various benders practice over the years. They stood straight and swept their arms up, then down in a controlled, pushing motion with a careful exhalation, directing their breath through their bodies.

"Whenever we practice the Eight Mother Palms, we walk in a circle, our bodies facing the center." Aang explained. He began walking in a tightly defined circle that wasn't too large or too small, his torso turned to Genji. She watched him for a moment, then began to do the same. They fell in sync with one another, moving so that they shared the same circle, but kept distance between them.

"Good!" Aang brought the arm furthest from Genji back closer to his body, and bent the other so that his hand was raised just above the shoulder. Genji did the same. "The Eight Mother Palms are the core of airbending. You'll use at least one almost any time you airbend.

"The first is called the Single-Changing Palm. It's super simple! Watch me!"

The Avatar proceeded to demonstrate with ease the first form, which truly was simple. He merely flipped his palm down and out so that it faced Genji. The rest of the form, it seemed, lay in the placement of his arms. She easily copied the motion, to which she was rewarded with a wide smile and an enthusiastic nod of approval. Genji nearly blushed, entirely unused to having such an encouraging, positive teacher. Or having a teacher at all.

"Perfect!" Aang beamed. "Do that same motion a few more times as we move."

They cycled through the remaining seven forms, with Aang needing to do very little demonstrating before Genji was able to pick it up. She was pleased to find the forms came naturally to her, and that she'd been doing some of them on her own without even realizing it. Instinct had been a better teacher than she'd thought. Still, it didn't replace a flesh and blood master and she knew there was more work to do after this. Harder work, that she might not pick up as easily. These were, after all, just the basics.

She was already feeling herself improve, however. It was as if her very spirit was radiating with glee as she shifted through each form, flowing from Circle-Body Palm to Rotating-Body Palm and so on. They were both new and impossibly familiar, and felt worlds better than the forms she'd been practicing on her own. Her feet had never felt so light and free before. Genji closed her eyes and took a deep breath through her nose, feeling as if she'd go giddy from the sensation. Every breath felt like a revelation. Every circled wrist was a love letter to the universe.

_Maybe Keemo was right._ She thought, as they continued their dance. _Maybe I'll finally be able to be me...Genji...the airbender..._

_I can be_ free _._

Flowing through the grass, standing across from the only other airbender in the Four Nations, it was almost surreal. More than that, though, it was _euphoric_. She was finally beginning to walk down her own path, and she wasn't alone on it. How could she feel anything but overwhelming joy?

_The Fire Nation's going to find you._ A voice interrupted, hissing from somewhere deep within her heart. _They're going to find you and kill everyone you love. And it's going to be your fault._

Genji's eyes shot open and her legs crossed when they should've followed behind one another, throwing off her balance. She caught herself before she could fall flat on her face, but ultimately lost her form. Aang blinked, obviously concerned with whatever had happened, but confused as to what exactly that was.

"Are you okay?" He asked, abandoning his own stance to check on her.

Realizing how odd and uncoordinated she must've looked, Genji flushed a deep red and scrambled to apologize.

"I-I'm sorry!" She blurted in an embarrassed huff. "I...um...I just...lost my balance..."

The voice hadn't been her own, and it hadn't sounded like anyone she'd known. But, somehow, it had felt almost like a memory, one she wasn't quite sure she'd actually had. She shuddered and tugged at the hem of her gloves, trying to free herself of its lingering whisper. Aang was looking at her with increasing worry, knowing that something was clearly bothering her.

"Are you sure you're alright?" He gently probed, unconvinced by her excuse. "You looked a little...well, to be honest, you looked _scared_."

"It's fine." She insisted a little too quickly, her voice firmer now. The last thing she wanted to do was admit to the Avatar that she'd had some sort of hallucination. He'd think she was crazy, and he'd be disappointed to know that the only other airbender in the world was a scared little girl who was starting to hear things.

Aang's face only grew more worried, his knitted eyebrows raising a little as if to ask again, _Are you sure?_ Unable to bear it, Genji bit her lip and turned her head away, tugging on her gloves some more.

"Was it your dream?" He asked. "You know, sometimes bad dreams can carry over into the morning. I once had a nightmare that my head had turned into a Lemur-Bat's and I was forced to eat giant Buzzard-Wasps and Caterants for the rest of my life. That one haunted me for _weeks!_ Asleep or not, I'd blink and it was like I was back in my dream, eating bugs again!"

Aang gave an exaggerated shudder, sticking his tongue out and gagging. Genji didn't laugh, although it was funny in a cute, child-like way, but she did consider what he'd said.

_Maybe it was from my dream..._

She kept her eyes cast aside for a moment as she mulled this over. That had to be the most reasonable explanation. However, the figure in her dream had only ever said one thing, and it hadn't at all mentioned the Fire Nation. Genji shook her head and pulled sharply on her gloves, feeling the fabric dig into the flesh between her fingers. She refused to dwell on it any longer. It was a remnant of her Swamp-Inspired nightmare and that was that.

"Yeah, that's it. It's just my dream." She muttered.

Turning back to Aang, she resumed the position of Single-Changing Palm. "I'm okay. Let's keep practicing."

Aang was more than happy to return to his role of instructor. Genji drank in his every word like a dehydrated Camel-Spider gulping down any drop of water it could find. Which, in a way, she was. She was an airbending novice who'd been deprived of a master for nine long years, until now. She was going to drink her fill of it and learn all she could.

Before long, the voice was gone. Nothing more than a faint memory, stored in the same dusty corner of her mind that she kept all unpleasant things. Whether or not it would remain there, undisturbed, Genji couldn't know. Nastiness like that had a tendency to resurface. But she couldn't dwell on that now. She had training to do.

* * *

In a town not so far from Aang and Genji's field, Katara and Sokka were perusing a rather standard array of market goods. Although they'd just purchased supplies in Genji's tiny village, most of it had been lost when they'd been catapulted into the Foggy Swamp. They'd had no choice but to retrieve more, despite their dwindling pile of money. Their journey to find Aang an earthbending teacher wasn't likely to be a short one, and certain members of their group got particularly grumpy when they went foodless.

"Really, Sokka." Katara sighed as she watched her brother hungrily eye a string of sun-dried mystery meat that hung from the street-side rafters of a butcher's shop. "We're not just here for food, you know. We're looking for Aang's teacher."

"I know that, I know that." Sokka waved her off without so much as a glance her way, already shilling out the necessary coins for his prize. "I just need a few more things, then we can move on."

It had been weeks since he'd sunk his teeth into a good, sinewy piece of jerky. Genji's village hadn't exactly been big on meat products, with the only selections being less than appetizing (their main meat products had been, to his horror, stewed Frog-Squirrels and pickled Leeches). This was the first piece of acceptable food he'd come across and he wasn't going to pass it up.

Katara frowned and snatched the coins from his hands before they could be pressed into the butcher's. Her brother gawked at his now empty palms, and watched helplessly as the butcher merely moved on to the next customer, unaware and unempathetic to the poor boy's growling stomach.

"We can't afford to waste money right now." She scolded. "We barely have enough to pay for the things we _actually_ need."

He glowered back at her unhappily. She ignored him and deposited the coins into their satchel, where they made a rather pathetic clink. The bag disappeared back under the folds of her split skirt, where they were not likely to reemerge for another few days. Another few insufferable days of non-meat foods. Sokka would have cried, if he was prone to such boyish displays.

"We _do_ need meat!" He protested, his voice cracking. He quickly cleared his throat, fighting an embarrassed flush that crept up his neck, and purposefully deepened his voice. "It's an important part of your daily nutrition. Of _my_ daily nutrition!"

"Well, we've only got a few coins left and you were about to trade them all for jerky. And two of us don't even eat meat!"

Katara wrinkled her nose. "I _think_ , at least. I haven't really asked Genji if she does or not. I just sort of assumed that because she's an _airbender_..."

She trailed off, suddenly unsure. Sokka shrugged, not too concerned with the dietary habits of their newest addition. As far as either of them knew, Genji was an airbender by birth, but Earth Nation by nature . Whether or not she knew or followed any Air Nomad teachings was a relative mystery. And, to Sokka, that meant she was an omnivore until proven vegetarian.

"Yeah, well, _some_ of us can't survive off nuts and dried fruit." He countered rather gruffly.

He sighed and gave the various cuts of meat one last, longing look before reluctantly drifting away from the stall. Katara rolled her eyes, knowing fully well that while her brother's love for meat was very much real, his theatrics were not. He would, in fact, continue to survive off of nuts and dried fruit. At least until they found some more money.

"Let's just focus on finding Aang a teacher. Then we can worry about food." Katara said.

Sokka huffed, a bit more quietly now, and muttered something under his breath. Katara placed her hands on her hips and squinted hard at her brother, thinking he was still groaning about the jerky. He could be such a child sometimes.

"Mind speaking up? I didn't quite hear you over your _moping_ , tough guy."

"I _saiiid_ ,'' he swung around to face his sister, more than happy to continue his own personal pity party. "It doesn't even make sense for us to be looking without Aang. It's _his_ teacher. He should be here looking _with_ us. Instead of ditching to go play air-ball."

"He's _training_ , not _ditching_." Katara replied firmly. "It's the first time he and Genji have had the chance to since she joined the group. It's really important to them.

" _And_ -" Katara continued, leaping onto her brother's next grievance before he could even open his mouth to air it. "-we're still on schedule. We find possible teachers today, Aang meets them tomorrow, and who knows, maybe he'll have a master before the end of the week. I mean, Aang already knows what he's looking for. Sort of."

Sokka raised a dubious brow. Aang's hallucination in the swamp wasn't, in his opinion, the most reliable of sources when it came to finding a master. And King Bumi's advice wasn't without scrutiny either. Bumi was, after all, a self-proclaimed mad king. Anything he said should be taken with _several_ grains of salt.

"Yeah, well, I still think he should've come." He retorted. "He and Genji could've blasted air at each other _after_ we found Aang a master."

Katara rolled her eyes again and groaned.

"Ugh, you're so stubborn sometimes!" She complained. "You don't know what it's like to go _years_ without a master _or_ to be the only one of your kind."

Katara's expression softened and her hands fell from her hips.

"It's lonely."

Just a few short months ago, she was a novice waterbender who could just manage to push and pull a small wave. She was officially a master now, but that only happened because she met Aang. If she hadn't, she would've remained in the South Pole, trying her best to teach herself a lost art that she could barely understand. She could only imagine the pain Genji had felt. How _lonesome_ it must've been having to teach herself while fully believing that there really was _nobody_ who could help her-that all the possible masters in the world were long dead.

"Whoa, hey-" Sokka crossed his arms and scowled indignantly. "I'm Southern Water Tribe too! I mean, I know our tribe was small, but c'mon, the rest of us aren't _extinct_ -"

"Oh, Sokka, you know that's not what I meant!" The vulnerability and the tender memories cleared from Katara's eyes and she threw her hands up in the air. "I meant being the only waterbender in the entire South Pole! Aang and Genji are the last airbenders, and Aang's the last airbending master. We've got to give time to train!"

Sokka held his hands up defensively, somewhat afraid that he was going to receive a splash of nasty swamp water from Katara's waterskin. He'd been on the bad end of her water whip many a time before, after all.

"Whoa, whoa, ok! I take it back! They're training, not playing, and it's super important, remnants of a lost culture, yadda yadda. Just don't go all water magic-y on me!"

Katara's eyes narrowed icily, and for a moment, she strongly considered doing just that. Her thumb even hovered over the cap of her pouch, her arm feeling the energy of the water that sloshed around inside. However, she decided against it, and instead huffed, threw her nose high in the air, and strutted past him.

"Well, me and my _water magic_ are going to find Aang's teacher on our own!" She called back to him, as she slipped down the main road that led deeper into the town. "And when _I_ find him before _you_ do, I'm going to celebrate by spending the last of our coins on a nice, juicy piece of _fruit_ _!_ "

An animalistic rumble tore at the walls of Sokka's stomach, and he clutched a hand to it. He wasn't about to lose his chance at snagging some real food. He tore off after her.

"Hey, wait!" He shouted as he caught up to her side. "What if we make a bet? The first one to find a master gets to decide how we spend the last of our money. The loser has to go find more. Deal?"

"Ha!" Katara scoffed and sneered playfully at him. "A deal you're going to _lose_ , smart guy. You're on."

The humdrum of the market faded behind them as they pushed further into town. Neither particularly knew what they were looking for, Aang's vision and Bumi's advice asides, so their shared best guess was to look for an Earthbending school first. From there they could start whittling down their choices and pick their crème de la crème. They decided that once they found the schools (they assumed, by the decent size of the town, that there would be at least two) they'd split off from there and interview the masters on their own. Then, when they presented their choices to Aang, a winner would be decided.

What they failed to notice, as they strode gung-ho down the street, were the suspicious eyes that followed them. Vendors that had peacefully sold to them a mere few seconds ago leaned out to watch them, and whispered to their neighbors. Double-takes were taken, and pleasant smiles twisted into unwelcoming frowns. As the siblings disappeared down the winding roads that sectioned off their town, a guard was summoned and pointed their way. He consulted a piece of parchment from his hip, narrowed his eyes at the writing, and with a stiff jaw began to march after them.


End file.
